The Show Must Go On
by Rhapsody4
Summary: A renegade girl running from an unknown danger will turn to Jack and his fellow Newsies for trust and protection...but can Jack and his friends decipher the questions surrounding her past before someone gets hurt? *Re-Written since debuting in 2001!*
1. I Could Do Better

**Since beginning this story in 2001, I've put work into it time and time again...but was never able to finish it. Now, 10 years after I first began it, I've decided to give it the ending that it deserves. Here's hoping I can find some old friendly reviewers and some new ones! Happy reading!**

**THE SHOW MUST GO ON**

by Rhapsody

**Chapter One: I Could Do Better**

"Pap'es! Get ya pap'es right here!"

The sounds of the newsies resonated throughout the town square as the street vendors and townspeople milled around, buying last minute items as the work day wrapped up to a close. There was a slight chill in the air, with a bit of the breezy autumn that lingered in the air and a hint of the winter about to come. As several vendors closed up shop, a few newsies began to gather near the middle of the square, comparing their quantities of newspapers sold for that day, among other things.

"Boy, did you see 'at fancy carriage pull up heah? Nice stuff. I bet ya it was da mayor. Any one wanna bet me on it?"

A few moans and groans could be heard from the other newsies, who seemed to be quite familiar with Racetrack's daily bets.

"Put a lid on it, will ya? Who cares 'bout fancy cars? What about dat girl we saw today, Blink?" Mush whistled in approval as many of the newsies laughed.

"Oh, yea'. She was nice. A lil' outta ya league, though?" Blink retorted.

"Eh, shaddup...alright, prolly, but maybe not for Cowboy...hey, Cowboy!" Mush shouted. "Did youse see that girl today with the yella dress? Nice stuff, eh?"

A tall, handsome newsie with a bandana around his neck spun around to face Mush.

"Yea', I saw 'er."

"An'?" Mush asked.

He smiled. "I could do betta."

The other newsies laughed, as did Mush. "Ah, yes. Da great Jack Kelly. What girl can resist 'im?"

Jack smiled as some newsies began to depart. It was nearing on seven o' clock. Racetrack lingered around to walk with Jack.

"Selling good taday, Jack?" questioned Race.

"Yea', it was alright. You?"

"Doin' bettah. If that horse woulda come throu' though, man...I coulda doubled my profits today. You'll see. Speaking of, I think Blink owes me some money. Heya, Blink!"

With that, Racetrack hurried to catch up with Blink. Jack just laughed to himself, knowing that there would always be some hot tip that Racetrack would always bet on...and always lose money. He slipped his cowboy hat onto his head, which had been resting on his back. He began to take out his earnings for the day and count them, when he noticed an odd scenario taking place on a nearby corner.

"Stop it! Please, just let me go! You don't understand!"

"What'sa matta? Neva been wit' a man before?"

The Delancey brothers, notorious for causing trouble, seemed entertaining themselves with a young girl, who was furiously trying to get away. They had her cornered against the wall, and were steadily getting closer and closer to her. They were obviously very intoxicated.

"Let me go, you bastard!" she choked out, her voice wavering with fear.

"Oh no, not without som'fin to show fer it," said the younger of the two.

With that, he began to move into onto the girl, but she sent a swift kick right into his stomach. Instantly, his brother reacted, sending his fist straight across her face. He grabbed her, and with his brother's help, began to drag her down a nearby alley. Jack watched all of this, and ran over.

"'S'cuse me, boys. S'ere a problem?" he asked.

"Clear out, Kelly. This ain't your bus'ness."

"What if I make it my bus'ness, Oscar?

"Well, 'less you'd like a shina' to go wit dat ugly mug of yours?" he replied.

"Try me," Jack shot back.

With that, Oscar's right fist went flying towards Jack, who deftly ducked out of the way just at the right time. Jack's own fist returned with an uppercut to Oscar's face, which sent him reeling. Morris Delancey stepped up to help his brother up.

"Now, didn' youse just say I would be da one wit' the shina'?" said Jack.

"It ain't worth gettin' inta fights wit us over some bitch, Kelly. Youse best watch your back." Horace dragged his brother back down the alley and into the street. Jack watched them go, then turned back to the girl they left sitting up against the wall. He couldn't see much of her face in the dark, but he could tell that she would need attention for a few bruises.

"You alright?" he asked as he grabbed her hands and helped her up. Her hands were freezing and trembling. "Don't worry. Dey're gone for now."

She shook her head. "No, no. You don't understand. I wasn't running from them." Her brown eyes looked up at his with fear. Jack understood.

"Come on," he said and led her to the end of the alley. He pressed himself against the wall, and she did the same. They were close enough that Jack could feel her whole body trembling. Whoever was chasing her certainly had frightened her quite a bit.

"Now, look out there an' tell me if you see 'em."

The girl peaked around Jack, and he could now tell that she wore a hood on her head, which covered up most of her face, except for the few stray pieces of brown curly hair which whipped about her head. She scanned the square and suddenly turned back around.

"Shit!" she cried. "He's out there!"

Jack also looked around the corner to find a tall man with a mustache in a dark suit, with a very unpleasant look on his face. He was talking to some random passerbys.

"Come on, we'll go dis way," Jack said. He lead the girl further into the alley and turned the corner onto yet another alley. He turned a few more corners until he was sure they were well out of the vicinity of the town square. The girl had remained silent thus far. She walked behind him, constantly looking up and behind her to make sure she wasn't being followed. Jack decided to break the silence which had been pervading over them.

"So, who's followin' ya?" he asked.

"'Ats none of your concern," she answered curtly. Jack was surprised at the level of rudeness in her voice.

"Well, 'scuse me for trying ta start a conversation. I did just help ya out, you could at least give me a name or somethin'." He stopped in his tracks and turned to face her. Aside from the few bruises that she had collected on her face from the fight, Jack noticed that she was sorta pretty. Her dress was simple, a cream blouse and a brown skirt. The hood she had on her head covered the top, yet let her wavy brown hair flow behind.

"Sorry. I'm Kate." She began walking again. Intrigued, Jack walked on.

"Kate...? Do youse have a last name to go with your smart-mouth?"

"Not for someone as cocky as you," she shot back. Her rudeness amazed Jack.

"Well...dontcha wanna know my name?" he asked.

Jack got the opinion that she did not want to talk. Maybe he should have let the Delanceys have her after all.

"Well, I'm Jack. Jack Kelly."

"Pleased to meet you," she said sarcastically. For someone who had just saved her life, she didn't seem too grateful. Frusterated, Jack gave up any further attempts at conversation until they had walked for about 10 minutes.

"Ya know, you prolly should get those shinas check'd out. You got a place ta stay?"

"What makes you think I need one?" she shot back.

Jack grinned and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Well, unless you were plannin' on followin' me aroun' for another ten minutes, I kinda got the impression that you might need someplace ta go," he said, smirking.

Kate hesitated. "I don't need your help. I really don't, but it's late and the chances of me findin' a spot are prolly really low. Where's it at?"

It was Jack's turn to grin again. "We're already here," he said and turned and pointed to the Newsboy's Lodging House. "Follow me," he said.

He turned and opened the door to reveal the lobby of the Newsboys' Lodging House, where a crusty old man sat at a nearby desk, doing some paper work.

"Hey, Kloppman. This here's Kate. She's gonna be stayin' with us boys for a while, til some business clears up, if ya know what I mean," said Jack.

Kloppman turned to Kate to get a good look at her and said "Sure, sure. Take as much time as ya need."

"I won't be stayin' for long, tanks," she shot back.

Jack rolled his eyes and sighed. At least she didn't just fire smart comments at him.

"Don't worry, Kloppman. She doesn't seem ta favah me either."

Now it was Kate's turn to roll her eyes.

"Up here," said Jack, as he lead the way up a flight of stairs and into a hallway of beds and smaller bedrooms. Some newsies were already in bed, fast asleep. The others were probably downstairs joining in on Race's nightly poker game, mused Jack. He lead Kate into an ajoining room with four bunks and a nightstand.

"Dis here's my room. You can take the bottom bunk over deh'," he said, as he motioned to the respective bed. Kate quietly walked over to the bed and sat down.

"De'll be, um, breakfast early in da mornin'...with pap'es selling an all. You can tag along if ya want. You can join us down for poker right now if ya-

"No, I'm fine," interrupted Kate.

Well, that's it, thought Jack. That's all I'm gonna get outta her. Fine, if she wants to be that way, so be it.

"Fine! G'night then!" snapped Jack.

He sharply closed the door, leaving Kate alone in his room. She jumped at the slam of the door. As soon as the it was closed, she let out a deep sigh and silently undressed herself, leaving just a few undergarments on. She sat on her bed, peering out the window on the street below. She couldn't believe how close she came. Just one little slip and everything would go back to the way it was. She would never let that happen. I'm never going back there, she thought, never. I can't trust anyone but myself. As she lay back on her pillow, she sat staring at the night sky, her mind blurred by the nightmares that she not only dreamed, but experienced...


	2. Just An Act

**Chapter Two: Just An Act**

"Yea', alright, you can take yer pair o' queens, and put 'em right back in yer hand...full house, boys. Read 'em and weep."

A chorus of moans filled the room as Blink unveiled his winning hand and collected his winnings. The newsies poker game had been going on for a while, and somehow, Race had managed to even make a profit, even thought he himself had not won a single hand. Some boys decided to call it a night and headed up the stairs from the basement and passed Jack, as he made his way down.

"'Ey, there 'e is. Hey Jacky-Boy, there's a new game startin'. You in?" asked Race.

"Nah, Race. Count me out. You go ahead. Amaze me with your poka' skills." Jack slumped down in a chair by the wall, and Mush watched him, with a grin on his face. Jack looked at him, and said "Wha? What's 'at smile for?"

"Go on, Jacky. Who's da girl youse brought in tonight?" asked Mush.

"Hey, how did you know?" said Jack.

"Kloppman told me 'bout 'er. Ya know, when you said you could do better, I didn't know you were being serious or anythin'," joked Mush. A few newsies laughed.

"So, what's she like?" asked Blink. "And, uh, who's bed she sharin' with?" Blink's answer was Jack's hat thrown in his face.

"'er name's Kate. First of all, she's colder than ice. Can't even talk ta her. I even helped her out of some...trouble, ya might say. She's bunkin' wit me."

"Oh ho ho! Keepin' all the fun to yerself, Jack?" poked Dutchy.

Jack waved his comment aside. "Eh, quiet! Trust me...this one'll be outta here in a few days. An' I can't say I'll be upset when she does leave."

"Well, where is she? Can I meet 'er, seein' as how you don't care too much for her?" inquired Mush, slowly blushing.

"Nah, not right now. I think she's already sleepin', actually. Besides, you'll wish you hadn't have met her by tomorra. The sooner she's gone, I say, the betta," retorted Jack.

"Alright, Jack. G'night," said Mush, as he threw Jack's hat back to him and headed for the stairs. Jack held his cowboy hat in his hands and just looked at it for a minute.

"Hey...Jack? Jack!"

"Wha? What?"

"Nothin'. You kinda dazed off a bit there," said Race. "You goin' up? Everyone's tired of losing ta Blink, and frankly, they're outta money, too."

"'Ats because you took it all!" quipped Jack. "Yeah, I'm headin' up. I'll see youse tomorra...bright and early. Carryin' the banner."

"Carryin' the banner," replied Race.

By the time Jack came upstairs, the lights were out and many boys were already asleep in their bunk beds, but some were whispering silently to one another. He made his way over to his room and silently opened the door. It was almost pitch black in his room except for the small beam of moonlight which fell just at the foot of his bed, illuminating Kate's small figure on the bed below his. Funny, he thought. She looks more attractive when she's sleepin' rather than when you actually get her to open her mouth. As he undressed and got ready for bed, Kate suddenly awoke with a start, as if she had just had a bad dream.

"Wha'? You 'ave a bad dream?" chuckled Jack.

Kate, realizing that it was Jack who was speaking to her, instantly rolled over, putting her back to him. Exasperated, Jack hastily crawled up to his top bunk bed and laid down. He laughed to himself, thinking about how he caught Kate off-guard.

"What? Didya dream that you actually started a conversation with me?" said Jack, as he leaned over the side of his bed. Kate had turned back over, and Jack was taken off-guard to see that a single tear had made its way down her cheek. Feeling guilty, Jack lay back down on his bed and shook it off. It's all probably an act, he thought. She's just a good actress and she's tryin' ta make me feel bad. Still, as Jack drifted off to sleep, he couldn't help but wondering what exactly was her story, and if her tears were fake, or real...


	3. First Impressions

**Chapter Three: First Impressions**

The next morning, Kate was awakened by the sounds of Kloppman banging his broom against each newsies' bed, reminding them of their duty to get up and "carry the banner." She hastily got out of bed and threw on her clothes. She slowly opened the bedroom door, when she came face to face with Jack, who was already up and sporting his famous red bandana.

"Mornin', Kate," he said with a smile.

"Mornin'," she said, swiftly brushing past him.

He rolled his eyes and let out a sigh of frustration. It was going to be a long day.

As Kate found her way to the washroom, she noticed several of the boys staring at her. Well, you did just kinda show up, she thought to herself. She found a vacant spot by the mirror and began straighten up her long curly hair. Mush took the spot next to her, and timidly began to strike up a conversation.

"Hey, you Kate?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied, all tone in her voice gone.

Mush laughed. "Oh, okay. So you're Jack's goyl?"

Kate gave him a quick glare and said "I am not anyone's girl, got it?" and turned on her heels and stormed out of the washroom, almost knocking Jack over in the process. Mush looked at Jack with a very surprised look on his face.

"Wow, for as pretty as she is, she certainly does have a temper to match, huh Jack?"

Jack sighed. "You have no idea."

**-**

As the newsboys left the lodging house for the day, Kate followed the crowd and eventually met up with Jack downstairs. Before she could say anything, Jack spoke up.

"Look, I dunno what youse got planned, but if ya gonna stay wit' us for a while, you can come along with me during the day, if that's alright wit' you."

Kate thought for a minute. She realized that she really had no place to go, and no one would be able to look out for her but herself once she left the lodging house. At least here, she had a bed to sleep in and some sort of protection from...her mind wandered and snapped back into reality.

"Fine. I suppose I'll go with you," she replied, crossing her arms in front of her.

"Well, gee, don't look so happy 'bout it then!" retorted Jack, as he tied his red bandana around his neck. For someone who should be grateful for his help, she certainly didn't act like it. "Come on. Let's go."

The morning passed by rather quickly, to both Jack and Kate's delight. He went to his normal spots around town, with Kate constantly walking a few paces behind him. She still wore the hood that he had seen her in the first time he saw her. _Whatever floats your boat_, he mused. _I can't imagine anyone wearing the same article of clothin' more'n _-his thoughts stopped when he remembered the red bandana around his own neck.

The selling was going well, and just before noon, Jack had sold all of his papers, an unusual occurrence for a Monday morning. Everyone seemed interested in buying papers this morning, even Kate, who purchased one to avoid any conversations with Jack. Finally, breaking the silence which had been between them all morning, Jack finally spoke up.

"Well, it's 'bout twelve or so. Ya hungry?"

"Kinda," Kate replied. "Where we going?"

"Dere's dis place about t'ree blocks from 'ere. All da boys go there for lunch. Sometimes, they usually give out free food, in case you didn't have any mo-

"I have money to pay for myself, thank you," she shot back. She reached into her pocket and produced a 5 cent piece. Jack looked surprised.

"I finished readin' the paper and got some guy to buy it for 5 cents," she explained. Jack looked amazed. "What?" she asked.

"Nothin'," he said, sighing to himself. "Come on, or we'll be late."

**-**

A small hush fell over the crowd at Tibby's as Jack entered the room with Kate in tow. Kate surveyed the crowd intently and finally took off her hood. Jack was surprised to find many of the newsies giving her a double-take. He hadn't really payed much attention to her physical looks, since her attitude pretty much covered them up. But now, in the sunlight, he realized that she was very beautiful. Her eyes almost matched the dark brown of her hair, but with a certain sparkle to them. Suddenly, snapping out of his reverie, he went and sat down at a table with a few other newsies, leaving Kate to find a table for herself. She sat down besides a few newsies who were busy playing a game of poker, right across the table from Jack.

"Hey-ey, Jacky-boy. Aren't ya gonna give us an intro-ductin'?" asked Mush.

"Yeah, Jack. Who's dis?" questioned Blink.

Jack shot a glance at Kate. "Oh, dis here's Kate. She's gonna be lodgin' wit' us for a few days." Kate caught the emphasis on the word 'few' and rolled her eyes at Jack.

"Come now, Jack. Where are you mannah's? Ain't ya gonna introduce us?" asked one newsie. Jack gave an exasperated sigh and quickly got up to get a menu. The newsie in question took his seat and began to talk with Kate.

"Don't mind 'im. He ain't as personable with the ladies as some of us. I'm Racetrack, but my close, intimate friends call me Race." He extended his hand.

"Well, hi...Racetrack," replied Kate, and ignored his outstretched hand. Some of the newsies close by giggled. Racetrack looked amused.

"What's so funny?" demanded Kate.

"Oh, nothin'. Jack was right about you though, colder than ice...no offense, ya know."

Jack came back to reclaim his seat from Race, and as soon as he sat down, Kate stood up and found an empty seat near the back of the restaurant. Jack looked puzzled, and Race looked guilty.

"Lemme guess, Race. You got a taste of her terrific personality?" asked Jack.

"A taste?" scoffed Race. "Try a mouthful."


	4. Joker's Wild

**Chapter Four: Jokers Wild**

For the next 2 weeks, the daily routine went pretty much the same for Jack and Kate. She would always accompany him every morning when he would sell his papers, and they would make their way over to Tibby's at lunchtime. Unfortunately, their friendship didn't change at all either. It seemed like Kate did just not want to be social or civil at all with Jack or anyone of the newsies, for that matter. They all tried to get her to talk, but usually got a heavily worded insult instead. None of them knew what to do. However, it did not seem that Kate intended on leaving the lodging house anytime soon, which confused Jack more than anyone.

After an especially tiring selling day, all of the newsies returned to the lodging house and almost instantly found their way down to the basement to begin a few hands of blackjack. Kate and Jack were among the last to arrive, as they were closely followed by Skittery. As usual, Jack did not look pleased, and Kate looked less than happy. As Jack turned to say good night to her, she was already on her way up the stairs. _I give up_, he thought. _I honestly don't care if she talks or is silent anymore_. Frusterated, Jack made his way down to the basement to join the other boys.

As Kate was walking up the stairs, she nearly crashed headfirst into David as he was coming down. Startled, he smiled and said, "Sorry 'bout that. You okay?"

Taken a bit aback by his politeness, Kate replied "Yeah, I'm alright. Uh, g'night then," and she started to climb the stairs again. _Don't get involved, don't get involved, don't get_-

"Hey, why don't ya come on down and join us tonight? I know you don't like to talk much, but hey, you can just sit around and watch a few newsies make fools of themselves."

Kate stood there for a second before she responded. _What harm could it do?_ she thought.

"Sure. Why not?" David was stunned. Could she actually have some friendliness inside of her?

When David entered the basement with Kate behind him, many of the newsies fell silent for a brief moment. She had never come downstairs, let alone strike up a real conversation with any of them. As David led her over to a vacant chair, Jack watched them and suddenly felt a twinge of jealousy creep over him. _I've been working wit' 'er for two weeks an' David's barely spoken to 'er. Wait a minute_, he thought. _What am I even thinkin'? You're actin' real weird, Cowboy. _Jack quickly snapped back to reality.

"Hey Cowboy," Dutchy whispered. "Take a look at Davey over dere, workin' his magic." It was true. David had seemed to get Kate to even smile, something which he had not seen her do since he met her. Her smile only enhanced her beauty. _Cut it out, Kelly. She's just some cold street rat that you happened to help out one day. She'll be gone soon enough._

"Hey Davey!" shouted Jack. "Don't try too hard. Ya might get on 'er good side...if she has one."

A bunch of the newsies laughed at Jack's remark, but Kate's newfound smile suddenly disappeared from her face. Jack instantly felt bad for opening his mouth. _Well, serves 'er right. She didn't need ta be so rude_.

A few more blackjack games passed, and Jack and David had both joined in on the fun. It was nearing twelve o'clock in the morning when Jack noticed that Kate was no longer in the room. As soon as his game finished, he left the basement and made his way upstairs. He figured that she decided to go to bed, and he quickly washed up before entering his room.

As he approached his door, he heard a faint noise coming from within his bedroom. As he got closer, he could discern that it was a soft crying. He opened the door a crack, and from the moonlight already in his room, he could see that Kate was crying into her pillow. When he tried to open the door a little bit more, forgetting how old the door really was, it gave off a sharp creaking noise, which startled Kate, who quickly turned away from the door. The crying subsided and then stopped. Not sure of what to do, Jack entered the room at a loss for words. _What do I say?,_ he thought. He gently closed the door behind him. Making one last attempt, Jack hesitantly spoke.

"Kate? You okay?"

At first, he was met with complete silence, until finally a soft voice spoke up.

"I didn't mean..ta make ya feel bad down dere," said Jack, feeling more guilty than ever.

"No, I, uh...just had a bad headache, but I'm better now, thanks."

Thanks. She had actually sounded like she meant it.

"You, uh, want some aspirin or somethin'?" he inquired.

"No. I'm fine, really," she insisted. Alright, Jack thought. At least it didn't end in an insult, and he quickly got his pajamas on and started to climb up to his bed when he heard, "Jack? Do you think...you could close the window? It's cold in here."

Jack stumbled over to the wide open window and shut it. Before he headed up to bed, he thought twice, and reached up for one of his extra blankets on his bed. Being ever so careful, he spread it over Kate without saying a word, but it seemed she had already fallen asleep. He hastily crawled into his own bed, and quickly fell asleep.


	5. A Day Trip To Brooklyn

**Chapter Five: A Day Trip To Brooklyn**

The next morning, the lodging house was filled with shouts of excitement. Race had apparently been out early this morning, and gotten word of a fantastic headline. It was going to be a good selling day.

"Rise an' shine, boys! Come on! Up an' at 'em!" bellowed Kloppman. "Youse boys are gonna be late!"

Jack tore of his sheets and lazily crawled out of bed. From the shouts of the newsies, he knew that today was going to be a long day. He sauntered over to the washroom, to find Kate already there next to an open mirror. Jack walked up beside her.

"Mornin', Kate. How's your...headache?" he asked, good-natured.

Kate looked into the mirror at Jack, with a surprised look on her face. "It's, uh...it's fine," she said quickly and dashed out of the washroom. Jack turned in amazement to watch her go. _Great_, he thought. _Just when I thought I was gettin' somewheres wit' 'er_. He shrugged and continued to get ready.

Even though the morning headline was indeed a hot one, and the papers were selling like hotcakes, Kate seemed to be quieter than she usually was. Whenever Jack tried to even make small conversation, she would divert eye contact and mumble a reply. At first, Jack was somewhat confused by her behavior, but as the day dragged on, he became more angered and suspicious about her true behavior and story. He had saved her from the Delanceys, hadn't he? And, he also helped her from whoever she was hiding from. He could have just left her there in the street on her own. Why wouldn't she talk to him?

Around noontime, fierce, grey clouds filled the sky, and an oncoming storm threatened to pour down on them. Still, Jack had some business to discuss with the Brooklyn newsies, and he couldn't wait until tomorrow. As he sold out of his last paper, he took a deep breath and turned to Kate.

"I, uh, gots some 'portant business with a few of my friends."

_Why ask her?,_ he thought. _She's been nothing but cold ta me for the last two weeks_. Still, he thought he'd try one last time to see if he could get this confusing young lady to open up at all.

"You're welcome ta tag alone, if ya like. I'd understand, ya know, if ya'd rather stay here, in the Lodging House...well, with the storm comin' an' all." He fidgeted around with his hat as an awkward silence surrounded him and Kate.

"Sure," she said, rather timidly. Jack nearly dropped his hat. "Where exactly is this bus'ness at?"

"Oh, ya know. Not far from here, just a few miles and then we're at Brooklyn."

"Brooklyn?" Kate said, in a half-whisper.

"Yea, Brooklyn. Why? Is there somethin' wrong wit' it?"

Kate regained her composure. "No, no...it's fine. I'll go," she said.

_If you don't go, he'll suspect somethin's up, she told herself. I don't need him askin' questions._

"Alright, let's go," and with that, Jack slipped his cowboy hat on and led the way across the great bridge to Brooklyn.

**-**

The docks of the East River were filled with the tumultuous shouts and cries of the Brooklyn newsies. Everyone in Brooklyn knew that the docks were their docks, and they'd have a pretty high price to pay if they didn't respect that. Apart from having the toughest reputations in all of New York, their leader, Spot Conlon, was no one to mess with.

"Jack!"

A small boy, no more than twelve or thirteen, hopped down from a stack of crates and scampered over to Jack and Kate. He spit into his hand and extended it to Jack.

"How's it goin', Shorty?" Jack spit into his own hand and returned the gesture.

"Good, good. I was just on my way ta a baseball game down in Hailey's Field. Ya wanna come?" The boys hopeful eyes looked up into Jack's.

"Sorry, Shorty, but I got some oddah business ta attend to. See ya around, kid."

Shorty shrugged his shoulder, but gave one last smile and was off like a dart to the end of the pier.

"Dat's Shortstop, or Shorty. Great kid." Kate's silent reaction gave Jack the hint to continue on with his business.

As Jack and Kate approached the second to last dock, Kate could notice that they were creating quite a scene, as several Brooklyn newsies stopped to watch Jack go by. As they walked out to the end of the dock, a newsie suddenly jumped off a high lookout tower and pulled out a gold-tipped cane from his belt.

"Hey-ey, Jacky. What brings you to these parts?" asked the newsie. He spit into his hand and extended it to Jack. Jack did the same, and they shook.

"Personal business, Spot. I'm on an errand from Medda. She wanted me ta invite you alls to 'er new show in a week. She said ta 'personally invite you,' if ya know what I mean," chuckled Jack.

Spot grinned. "Ah yes, the illustrious Medda, sending ol' Jacky-Boy here to do 'er business. Tell ol' Medda she can count on me to be dere in the front row." Then, Spot noticed Kate, standing behind Jack. "And who's dis, Jack? Who's da goil?"

All of the surrounding newsies turned to look at Kate, which she noticed, and quickly looked down at the dock. "Dis here's Kate," explained Jack. "She's stayin' up at da Lodgin' House for a while." Jack also noticed the amount of attention Kate was receiving. "Well, if youse all don't need anythin' else, we'll see ourselves out."

With that, Jack turned to leave, and Kate caught Spot's eye as she followed Jack. She quickened her pace to catch up with Jack, and just as they were about to leave the dock, Spot called out to them.

"Hey! Haven't I seen youse somewhere before?" he questioned. "Dat mug looks awfully familiar."

Kate turned around, surprised, as did Jack. "No, I don't think so. I'm not from around dese parts," she replied quickly. Kate looked to Jack, and then resumed walking. Jack shrugged to Spot, and followed her. However, Spot watched Kate until she was out of his sight.

Something wasn't right about dat situation, he thought, and climbed back up to his lookout tower.


	6. The Curtain Comes Up

**Chapter Six: The Curtain Comes Up**

After they had been walking for about two blocks, without any conversation, Jack stopped and turned to Kate.

"Look, it's, uh, near dinnertime. You hungry?" he asked.

Kate looked sheepishly up at Jack, not wanting to admit that indeed, she was hungry. "A lil',"she confessed.

"'Kay, come on. I know this lil' place a few blocks from here," said Jack, and he began to leave. Kate remained still.

"What? Whattsa matta?"

"I...don't have any money," Kate admitted, embarassed.

Jack grinned. "S'okay. I got some extra, don't worry 'bout it." Kate returned the smile, and Jack found himself realizing again how pretty she was when she smiled. Yet, there was still a strange sort of sadness that was constantly in her eyes. Still, a smile was better than an insult, and they walked on for about four more blocks until they reached an old Italian cafe called La Sera Stella. Jack had noticed that Kate had again put on the hood she usually wore. There were a few customers sitting outside at scattered tables, and even though it wasn't the best section of town, the cafe's quaint setting was just enough to set it apart.

"What can I getcha, miss?" asked the counter-clerk.

Kate set the menu down that she found on the counter, and told the clerk that she wanted a plate of spaghetti, but with no sauce. Jack was too busy trying to find a table to hear her order. Finally, he set his hat down at an empty table and went to give his order.

"Well, what can I get for ya, Cowboy?" asked the clerk.

"Da usual," said Jack, and he paid for the money and sat down. Kate looked around the restaurant nervously.

"Ya know, you can take da hood off now," whispered Jack.

"Oh no, it's okay. I like wearing it," answered Kate, shortly.

"Okay, okay! Just askin'!" replied Jack.

"Sorry," said Kate. "I didn't mean to sound rude." Jack was stunned. Had Kate actually apologized...to him? Jack's surprise was short-lived, as the waiter brought them their orders, and as he discovered they had ordered the exact same thing.

"Looks like we 'ave the same tastes," he said and grinned, and Kate smiled to herself.

"I didn't get a fork," she said. As she stood up to get one, she knocked into a very muscular man with a plate of spaghetti in his hand. The plate fell, spilling noodles and sauce all over the man's shirt and on Kate's skirt. Kate looked horrified.

"Oh! I'm so sorry," exclaimed Kate.

"What do you think you're doing?" demanded the man. He grabbed Kate by her arm quite forcefully, and he didn't look pleased. "I just paid for that!" he shouted.

"I'm sorry...please, let me go, you're hurting me." Jack stood up.

"You should learn to be less clumsy!" barked the man, and he grabbed Kate's other arm. "Let me go!" she cried.

"Hey!" Jack shouted. "She said ta let 'er go!" and he pushed the man away and pulled Kate behind him. Startled, the man began to advance towards Jack. They were now attracting a crowd.

"Yea'? An' what you gonna do about it?" he demanded.

Jack paused. "Nothing...'cept dis!" and Jack scooped up the plate of his spaghetti and threw it in the man's face. "Run!" he shouted to Kate and grabbed her hand and ran out the back door, into the kitchen. The man, after clearing away the spaghetti, followed them in hot pursuit.

"Looks like we'll hafta have dat lunch anudder day, huh?" shouted Jack, as he pulled Kate through a mess of cooks and busboys.

"He's coming!" cried Kate, who seemed to be laughing, and they burst through the exit.

Indeed, the man had followed them out the back door and was right on their heels. "Quick, down 'ere!" said Jack, as he turned quickly down a narrow alleyway, pulling Kate behind him. Still, the man pursued them. "Man, this guy doesn't give up!" said Jack. "This way, c'mon!"

Jack and Kate ran down yet another alley, and still the man followed them, with spaghetti still on his face. Jack and Kate paused for a minute to see if he was still pursuing them, and Kate remarked "I wonder if 'e knows 'e still has pasta on 'is face!" Jack laughed, when he heard the footsteps of the man trudge down the alley they were on. Jack and Kate both giggled and he grabbed her hand again and said "Come on!" They sprinted down a dead end, and Kate whispered "Where are we going to go?"

"Quick, in 'ere!" and Jack quickly lead Kate into a very, very narrow passage way in between two buildings. Kate was up against the wall, and Jack was facing her, his back to another wall. Their bodies were nearly touching. Neither of them could stop from laughing, especially Kate. Jack had never seen her like this, and it was a pleasant surprise. Suddenly, they heard the man from the restaurant's footsteps approaching their hiding spot. Jack shushed Kate and for a minute, as they both plastered themselves to the wall. All you could hear was their breathing. They heard the sound of feet shuffling, then a brief "Darn kids" was muttered and the footsteps turned around and walked away.

Kate and Jack both breathed a sigh of relief. "We betta go get your skirt cleaned up, huh?" asked Jack.

"Oh! Yeah," chuckled Kate, as she glanced down at her brown skirt, now streaked with blotches of spaghetti sauce. They slowly made their way out of the alley and into a main square. In the middle of the square was a fountain, with a few people taking a leisurely stroll at night. Jack and Kate made their way over to it, and Kate dipped the front part of her skirt into it. Jack washed his hands off, when Kate spoke first.

"You know, that's the second time you've saved me," she said, suddenly quiet.

"Yeah, I guess it was," chuckled Jack. "You have a habit of attractin' bad people, I 'spose." Kate sat down on the fountain near Jack.

Kate started to speak, then hesitated. Finally, she said "I owe you a thank you," she admitted. "I know that I haven't been exactly nice ta you, or anyone, for dat matta."

"Yea, well, I think Race started a bet with da guys on who you'd be nice ta first," mused Jack. "Dey mean well," he added.

"You really look out for 'em, don't ya? Dat's one thing I noticed 'bout you," said Kate, her eyes peering into Jack's.

"I didn't think ya cared dat much," snickered Jack.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to appear that way. It's just that..." She trailed off and sighed. "Well, since ya did save me more than once, I guess I can tell you my real name now. I'm Kathleen, Kathleen Riven. But, please, I really just prefer Kate."

"Dat's da most you've said ta me in the past two weeks," joked Jack, "but it'll do. By da way, my real name's Francis Sullivan, but I'd just prefer Jack," he said, grinning. Kate blushed and went back to washing her skirt. Jack noticed that she looked particularly cute when she blushed. Where had this side of her been for the past two weeks?

"Uh, Kate?" asked Jack.

"Yea?"

"You, uh...you missed a spot on your skirt."

Kate looked down at her nearly clean skirt. "Where?" she asked.

"Right...dere!" said Jack, as he splashed a handful of water onto Kate. She gasped in surprise, and threw another handful towards Jack. Pretty soon, they were engaged in a water fight, chasing one another around the fountain, running around like two five year olds. Jack took off his cowboy hat, dunked it into the fountain, and Kate saw it, in enough time to run off. "That's not fair, Jack!" she shouted, as she ducked into a nearby alley. Jack laughed and emptied his hat and ran off after her. She quickly turned onto another street with Jack in hot pursuit.

"Hey!" shouted Jack, and Kate turned around and laughed. She kept running, but Jack took a turn down a nearby alley. Kate stopped briefly to catch her breath, and peaked around the corner to see if Jack was anywhere in sight. There was no one on the street, so she started to run again, but had not counted on Jack being on the other side of the building. He jumped out, nearly scaring her half to death, and grabbed her by her waist and spun her around in the air. Both were laughing so hard that they were near tears. As Jack put Kate back on the ground, she turned around to face him, with the biggest smile on her face. They were so close together that Jack could even tell that Kate had little specks of green in her brown eyes. However, within a split second, that smile quickly disappeared and Kate's hand flew to her mouth.

"What? What is it, Kate?" asked Jack.

Kate quickly pulled away from Jack and took a few staggering steps backwards. A look of fear had overcome her entire face, and her breathing became very shallow.

"Kate! What's wrong?" said Jack.

"Jack, I can't...b-be here," she stammered. "I need to leave right now." Her voice was a hushed whisper.

"I don't understand. Was it somethin' I said?" said a confused Jack.

"N-no, no. You don't understand," she choked out, "I'm..in a lot of danger..if we stay right here," she said, her voice breaking. She looked to Jack with tears in her eyes. "C-could we please go?" she pleaded.

Jack was stunned. "Sure," he said, and went to reach for her hand. She was shaking.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned. He turned Kate to face him. All of the color had drained from her face.

"No, not until we get out of here," she whispered. He had never seen her this afraid since the first day he met her.

"Come on," he said softly, and gently guided her away from the street they were on. By the time they reached the Brooklyn Bridge, she had calmed down a bit and stopped shaking. Still, her hand clung furiously to Jack's by the time they were halfway over the bridge.

"Are you okay now?" he asked, his eyes probing into Kate's.

"I-I think so," she said. She looked up into Jack's eyes, and quickly turned away towards the railing of the bridge, overcome with emotion. Jack joined her by her side.

"Why were youse in danger back dere?" asked Jack.

"I don't even know where to start," replied Kate. She stared out into onto the river. It was so quiet and calm.

"Well, what if you tell me who you were runnin' from. Could ya start dere?" Jack asked.

Kate sighed heavily. She had dreaded talking about this, but there was something about Jack that seemed comforting, trustworthy. He _had_ saved her twice.

_I hope I can trust him_, she thought.

"The man who was chasing me a few weeks ago was Archibald Walker. He is the owner of the North Star Theatre in Brooklyn. Three years ago, my father used to own that theater. My mother died when I was very young, so my father was all I knew as family. He always loved the stage, and he would take me with him whenever there was a new play or musical at his theater. One day at a rehersal, he discovered that I could sing, and immediately paid for vocal lessons. Even though we weren't rich, he somehow found the money to pay for them. I began to get involved in some of the shows at his theater, and everything was wonderful." Kate's voice trailed off.

"Go on," said Jack.

"When I was 14, my father met Archibald Walker at a cabaret one night. I remember it because it was the first show that I sang by myself onstage. Mr. Walker was very interested in the business of the theater, and offered to back a few of our productions. My father couldn't refuse his offer, and he became a silent partner in our affairs. He even held part of the deed to the theater, that was how close he and my father became. Then..." Kate took a deep breath and started again.

"One night, after a show, my father...suffered a severe heart attack. I don't remember it very well, just that there was nothing anyone could do. I felt like I lost my best friend, and there was no one, not even the other performers, who I had grown very close to, that could make me feel better."

"God, I'm so sorry Kate."

Kate nodded and went on. "Things went kind of in a blur after that. Of course, there was a funeral and memorial, all set up by Mr. Walker. About a week after the funeral, he met with a few lawyers and decided that he would now hold ownership to the theater...and under special request, be my legal guardian. I thought he was truly looking out for me. But then, everything changed. Mr. Walker suddenly became very cold and distant to me, only stopping to speak to me at rehersals, which he led. Even the material of our shows went down. He started selecting shows and casts that would appeal more to men, getting rid of the few friends I had in the theater. And then, the alcohol started. But, I started receiving the lead roles in our productions, so I didn't say anything to him...then one night, he came up to my room...and...he just starting beating me. And he swore that if I ran away or told anyone, he'd kill me. I was so scared." Kate's voice began to falter. Jack looked at her in stunned silence

"I had no other place to go, so I had to comply. The beatings continued, the alcohol increased, and then he decided to turn the theater into...more than just a theater. He hired new female singers...I soon found out that they weren't just "singers"...but I was always the main attraction on the stage. After the shows, when I'd be finished, he would lock me up in my room, then conduct his 'business' with the other women. I never even wanted to imagine what he had them do. After he'd finish selling them off, he would...he...beat me and..."

A single tear rolled down her cheek. She quickly turned away from Jack so that he wouldn't see her crying, but he had already seen. He put his arm around her and she flinched slightly. "It's okay. You don't gotta be strong all da time," said Jack.

"Why? It's worked so far," she choked out.

Kate turned back to face him. She looked up at him, with tears in her eyes, and instantly started crying softly. He pulled her into his chest and she sobbed into his shirt. He reached up and smoothed her hair back.

"Shh, it's alright," he said gently. He had no idea what to say, so he just held her like that for a few minutes. Surprisingly, it felt good. After a while, Kate had calmed herself down again and stopped crying. She pulled away from Jack and wiped her eyes, but not before Jack had untied his bandana.

"Here," he said, offering it to her.

"Thanks," she said gratefully, and dried her eyes. She handed it back and Jack tucked it into his pocket.

"The reason we were in danger was because the building behind us back there was the North Star Theater," explained Kate. "If he had seen me, he would've taken me back in there, and I never want to go back! It was hell in there, Jack!" cried Kate. "I can't go back, and I-I think I'd kill myself before going with him again," said Kate, hysterically.

Jack grabbed her firmly by the shoulders. The strength of his grip scared her. She defensively recoiled and gasped. Instantly, she pulled away. Whenever a man grabbed her, it was usually not in a comforting fashion.

"Kate! You don't have ta worry 'bout 'im. No one's gonna make you go back dere," said Jack. The look of terror in her eyes scared him. It was no wonder she didn't trust anyone. What she shared with him in the past ten minutes was enough to make anyone distrustful.

"How do I know that? There is no one in this world that would prevent that from happening," she spat out, her voice inflected with cynicism.

"What if I said I would? What about then?"

Kate looked up at him with questioning eyes. "You would...do that?"

Jack looked directly into her eyes. "Trust me," he strongly replied. Jack realized that she had begun shaking again. He put his arms around her and embraced her. She seemed to just collapse into his arms, and expelled a great sigh of relief. A second later Kate began to pull away, but not before their eyes locked. She stopped, and a lone tear rolled down her cheek. Jack brought his hand up and gently wiped it away, stroking her face. The tension between the two of them was so high, yet neither one dared to make a move. It seemed that they were staring at one another for the longest time until the sound of a distant bell tower snapped Kate back into reality. She jumped at the sound of it, breaking her gaze from Jack's. He released her and ruffled his sandy brown hair.

"We, uh...betta get back to da lodgin' house," he said, flustered. "Kloppman wouldn't like us out too late." Kate turned away from Jack, taking a long look at Brooklyn.

"Don't worry," said Jack, reassuringly. "Nothing's gonna happen ta you. I won't let anyone take ya back there." He put her hand on her back reassuringly. "And neither will the rest of the newsies. They're good guys, you just gotta give 'em a chance."

"I don't think there's anyone of 'em left that likes me," replied Kate, as she turned around to face Jack. "I think I did a pretty good job of keeping everyone away."

"Well, if it makes ya feel better, I've always liked ya, even when ya were less than pleasant," said Jack. When he realized what he said, he immediately looked at the ground, embarassed.

Kate perked her head up. "Really?" she asked, with hope in her eyes.

"Yea," replied Jack quietly. "Really." Kate looked into his hazel eyes, and he into hers.

"Come on," said Jack, as he took her hand in his.


	7. A Fight at Midnight

**Chapter Seven: A Fight at Midnight**

About twenty minutes later, Jack and Kate arrived back at the lodging house, exhausted. For most of the way, Kate had walked with her head on Jack's shoulder, and by the time they reached the doorstep, she could barely walk. Jack was still somewhat awake, so he carefully picked her up in his arms, and quietly brought her upstairs. Everyone was asleep, so he took extra care not to wake anyone up.

Luckily, his bedroom door didn't creek, and he made it into his room without disturbing anyone. He laid her cautiously on her bed and put her head on her pillow, delicately smoothing her hair away from her face. In the moonlight, she almost looked angelic, her golden brown hair framing her pale face. Jack looked at her for a minute, still trying to process everything she had told him tonight. Not only had she been kept at the theater against her will, she had been beaten, both physically and mentally. Luckily, he mused, she wasn't used like the other women were. Jack had seen his fair share of prostitutes roaming the streets, and he was glad Kate was not put through that. _Somewhere in Archibald Walker's mind, he had a smidgen of decency inside of him_, thought Jack. Jack only wished that he could have done something sooner to help her. Hesitantly, ever so slowly, he leaned over and kissed her forehead. She had already fallen asleep.

"G'night, Kate," whispered Jack.

Jack silently left the room and hurried into the now dark washroom. He got cleaned up and was about to leave the washroom when he heard some distinctive snickers coming from several newsies' beds.

"Alright, alright...Blink, whaddya laughin' at?" asked Jack. This caused some of the newsies to break out in laughter, which they quickly stifled.

"Nothin', nothin' Jack! I'm just finally seein' now how badly ya want 'er out of 'ere!" snickered Blink.

"So badly that you felt ya had ta carry 'er in ya room, eh?" said Crutchy.

"Yea', cold as ice, right Jack? " shouted Race.

"Eh, quiet, all of youse!" snapped Jack, as he tossed his hat, hitting Race on the head. "She was just tired, so I carried 'er up."

"Uh huh. That smile on ya face begs ta differ, there Jack," quipped Mush. "Ya haven't smiled like dat since...I dunno, ya announced ta all of us dat the strike was ovah."

It was true. When the strike ended, things went pretty much back to normal. Everything except Jack's relationship with Sarah. Sure, he had kissed her in front of everyone on that day, and yes, he did ask her a week later to be his girl. But after a month, they both realized that they liked being friends better than boyfriend and girlfriend. It wasn't that they fought; they rarely ever did. Sarah was one of his best friends, and Jack was one of her's. And their intimate relationship wasn't much different than what they had before: sure, they'd do stuff and occasionally get teased for kissing in front of the newsies, but it was just like they were really good friends.

When school started back up for Sarah, her and Jack had a long talk about lots of things, and finally decided to just remain friends. With Sarah starting school and all, Jack told her that she deserved to be with someone from her school that was around more often than he could be, and she agreed. It was a mutual decision. Nothing had changed their friendship, much to the delight of David and Les, who were two of Jack's closest friends. Sure, Jack had gotten over Sarah a long time ago, but there was something amiss from his usual demeanor. He just couldn't pinpoint it.

Jack just looked at the rest of his newsies and laughed. "Ehh, youse guys like improvin' the truth a little too much. I finally got 'er ta talk, and it turns out, she's actually kinda nice."

"Jacky's got a cru-ush," said Skittery, in a sing-songy voice.

"Eh, quiet!" yelled Jack.

"But Jack, I tought dat she didn't want nothing to do wit us?" asked Crutchy. "I mean, if ya like 'er, dat's great, but I don't tink she likes us dat much."

Jack shook his head. "Nah, Crutch, it ain't like dat. It was all a misunderstandin', really. Trust me."

He turned to face everyone. He hesitated for second thinking of the words to say. Finally, he told all of the newsies a rough story of Kate's past: Her father's death, the theater, her living situation, and most importantly, who she was running from. A silent hush fell over all of the boys. "Just give 'er another chance, for me, at least," he said. A few of the newsies shook their heads in agreement. "She's really nice when ya get ta know 'er. She's just worried that youse fellas won't want anything to do wit 'er."

"Don't worry 'bout it Jack," said Blink.

"We'll make 'er feel at home, don't worry," said Mush.

"Yeah," said Race. "I mean, we've lived wit' you for almost five years, and look what we've had ta put up with!"

Race was met with a pillow to the face. When he finally realized who hit him, Blink had already taken his pillow and smacked him on the back. Then Mush joined in the game, and pretty soon every newsie was partaking in a pillow fight. Feathers were flying everywhere, and the bedroom was filled with the shouts of all of the Manhattan newsies. Sure, they lived on pennies from day to day, but they had each other. That's all that mattered.

"Would you boys keep it down!" hollared Kloppman from downstairs. All of the newsies stopped mid-swing. They all replied in unison "Sorry, Kloppman," and started laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. Here they were, the Manhattan newsies, with feathers swirling around them at 12 o'clock at night.

"Come on, guys," said Jack, still laughing. "Let's get on ta bed. We'll clean up tomorrow."

All of the newsies went over to their respective beds and plopped down. Jack carefully opened his door and crept into his room. Kate was still sound asleep in her bunk, undisturbed. Those fellas are impossible, he thought. Jack hastily crawled into bed. He threw his hat onto his bed post, followed by his bandana. It wasn't long before his eyes were closed and Jack was fast asleep.


	8. A Born Natural

**Chapter Eight: A Born Natural**

The next morning, bright beams of sunlight poured in on Jack's face, warmly waking him up. He blinked a few times, letting his eyes adjust. He leaned over the side of his bunk expecting to find Kate still asleep, but was shocked to find the bunk empty, neatly made up. Was she gone? He hoped he hadn't offended her last night at all by inquiring about her past.

"Kate?" he shouted?

"G'mornin', Jack," said Kate, as she entered, fully dressed.

Jack jerked his head towards the door with a surprised look on his face.

"Kate," he said. "I, uh..tought ya left or somethin'." She smiled.

"No, I just decided to get up early, that's all," she shrugged. "No one else is up yet, 'sides me."

Jack slid down from his bunk and walked over to Kate. "Well, I'm up now," he said. "Lemme get dressed an' ready and I'll meet ya downstairs, kay?"

Kate nodded and headed out of the room. _There was something different about her today_, Jack mused. He liked the change, and hoped the boys would as well.

As Kate made her way out of the bunk room, she noticed that one bunk was empty. Maybe she wasn't the only one up. When she looked around the room, she didn't see anyone moving about. Confused, she made her way downstairs to the lobby and almost ran headfirst into Blink as she rounded the corner. It took him a second to realize who it was.

"Ah! Oh, heya, Kate. Sorry 'bout dat," he apologized. This was the first time Kate really noticed that he had a patch over one eye. The other eye, however, revealed the bluest eye she had ever seen. She was a bit taken off-guard, wondering how to react, when she remembered herself.

"No, that's my fault, I'm sorry," she said. It took Blink a second to register that she was actually being nice for a change. "I didn't know anyone else was up besides me."

"Oh, yea'. I like to get up early sometimes an' watch da sun rise 'fore everyone else gets up," replied Blink. "I was gonna go on the roof, but the winda's jammed shut."

Kate grinned. "I used to like watching the sun rise, too. What's your name again?" she asked.

Blink smacked himself on the head playfully. "Whea's my mannahs? Allow me ta introduce myself. I'm Kid Blink, but you can call me Blink for short. Everyone else does."

Kate looked a little sheepish and then finally spoke. "I'm Kate, but I gotta apologize to you first...to everyone, really. I know that I've been distant ar-"

"Don't worry 'bout it," interrupted Blink. "We all have stuff we deal with from time ta time. Trust me." He winked at Kate, which made her feel very welcome.

"Thanks...I mean, thank you," she said.

"So, ya gettin' used to Manhattan alright?" he inquired, casually leaning against the wall.

"Well, to tell you the truth, I haven't really been paying much attention to my surroundings lately," she admitted. "It's a wonder I can find my way to the washroom in the morning," she joked.

Blink laughed. "Well, if ya got some free time later on, I can show ya da ropes," he offered. "Just a simple tour, nothing more," he said, raising his hands in the air in a non-offensive way.

"Thanks. I'd really appreciate that," said Kate.

"Appreciate what?" asked Jack, who was descending the stairs. He smiled at both of them and clapped Blink on the back.

"Um, Blink's just offered to give me a tour of Manhattan," replied Kate.

Jack perked his head up. When he remembered he could talk, he said "Oh, yea. Blink's real good at givin' tours."

"How's about tomorra...after lunch?" asked Blink.

"Sounds good. Thanks again," replied Kate, and she walked out the front door.

"Yea, thanks Blink," snapped Jack. Blink gave him a puzzled look.

"What?" he asked.

"Ya make friends quick," Jack commented.

"Hey!" continued Blink, "Ya told us ta be nice to 'er...so, I'm bein' nice ta 'er!"

"Yea, I know, Blink. Thanks. I gotta go though. See ya at Tibby's for lunch?" he asked.

"Yea, see ya there Jack. Carryin' the banner."

"Carryin' the banner," replied Jack.

"So, I'm allowed to lie, and I won't get in trouble for it?"

"Yea...'sides which, it's not exactly lyin'. It's just improvin' the truth," explained Jack, who was trying to explain to Kate how to hawk a paper. "For instance," he began as he pointed out the top headline in the paper. "Mayor Conducts Relations with French Ambassador. Now, what would a betta headline be?"

Kate stared at the headline for a second, then piped up "Mayor Shares Intimacy With French Woman?" Jack stared back at Kate, stunned. New Newsies usually don't pick up the art of lying as fast as she had.

"What?" she asked, laughing. "Is that not good enough?"

Now it was Jack's turn to laugh. "No, no. It's just that you're pretty good at it. But where'd your accent go?"

"Oh!" she said. "I never really had an accent. I just used one to begin with so I'd fit in. It's awfully hard to nail down a Brooklyn accent when you're acting so much." She seemed to get uncomfortable talking about Brooklyn, so Jack said "Well, ya might need ta work on your accent while sellin' papes. Customers usually buy 'em if ya have an accent. Go on, try it."

Kate took a newspaper from Jack. Before she could even open her mouth, a very distinguished gentleman approached her and offered her five cents for the paper. Jack, if it was possible, looked even more stunned. Kate walked back to Jack and presented him with her new nickel.

"So, does that not happen often, or do you just prefer to look dumbfounded all the time?" The grin on her face stretched from ear to ear.

"Y-yea," stammered Jack. "Not bad..._Kathleen_." Jack snickered to himself. He couldn't let her have all the fun. Kate feigned a look of anger, and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Not bad at all..._Francis_."

Jack immediately stopped laughing.

A gentle hum of the newsies voices permeated the air at their favorite restaurant, Tibby's. All of the regulars were already there for their usual 12 o'clock lunch. Blink was sitting at a table with Snoddy and Crutchy, while Race was desperately trying to start up a quick game of Blackjack with Skittery and Mush. The bell on the door rang out softly as Jack and Kate entered. Blink saw them come in, and went over to say hello.

"Hey! How was da sellin' today guys?" he asked.

"Good...ya know, she's a natural," commented Jack. Kate waved it off and said "Beginner's luck," and shrugged. They took a seat near Race's pathetic game of Blackjack.

"Aww, come on! No one wants ta play?" he shouted, shuffling his deck of cards one more time.

"Race, we gotta have money ta eat, ya know," quipped Skittery. Frusterated, Race put his cards back in his pocket.

"What are you playing?"

Racetrack perked his head up to find Kate actually speaking to him. He was stunned. "Well, I was tryin' ta play blackjack, but no one see-

"I'll play," said Kate, as she pulled up a chair next to him. "Can you teach me?"

Even more surprised, Race grinned and began to shuffle his cards again. Jack watched this exchange with amusement. He was glad to see all of the newsies really making Kate feel at home, and he was even happier to see her responding positively. _Go figure_, he thought. _Two weeks ago she woulda slapped Race before sittin' down ta play a game of poker wit' 'im._

By the end of lunch that day, almost every newsie had crowded around Race's table, giving introductions and saying hello to Kate. She knew almost all of their names, and deeply regretted for being so distant to them for the two weeks previous. She had prepared to apologize to all of them, but she could just tell that that was completely uneccesary; they all had seemed to have forgiven her. For the first time in a long time, she felt extremely safe and happy, a feeling she had not experienced in a long time. As the lunch hour winded down, she briefly caught Jack's eye and flashed him a huge smile, silently thanking him for his patience and understanding. He knew what she meant, and returned the smile, silently replying "You're welcome."

The rest of the day passed by at a rather leisurely pace. After Tibby's, Jack and Kate sold the rest of their papers, and returned to the lodging house shortly after dinner. Outside, a steady drizzle of rain had begun to pour down, confining the newsies to the lodging house for the rest of the night. As usual, Race had begun a poker game in the basement, which had high attendance for such a rainy night. With a little begging from Blink and Mush, Kate had decided to join the boys downstairs, after Blink threatened to drag her out of the bedroom if she didn't follow him. She even struck up a conversation with Kloppman before heading downstairs, who was delighted to be able to talk to someone other than a newsie. Before everyone knew it, it was time to head upstairs for the night. The usual "g'night Skittery" and "g'night Crutchy" was said as all of the boys crawled into bed. Then, together in unison, Mush and Blink both shouted "G'night Kate!"

"G'night boys," she called out from behind her door. She carefully shut it, laughing to herself, and turned around to find Jack lying on his top bunk, laughing, with an amused look on his face.

"What?" she asked, with a sly smirk on her face.

"Nothin'!" he replied. "Just thinkin' how the only way Blink an' Mush can talk ta a girl is when they're togetha'."

Kate laughed. "Well, most guys have that problem," she quipped, as she plopped down on her own bed.

"Yeah, well, some girls have dat problem, too," he smirked sarcastically, as he replayed all of the horrible relationships he'd had since Sarah. And he thought Sarah was protective...that's an understatement compared to some of the girls he'd dated.

"I dunno, Kate...Mush and Blink seemed awful eager to talk to ya. You always work dat charm on guys?"

She laughed and rolled her eyes. "No, come on now. I mean, when you work in the theater, it's your job to be a charmer. Compared to other guys, they're much more tolerable. They seem really nice." She yawned and laid her head on her pillow.

Jack sighed. "Yea. They're...great," he said. "Told ya they'd like ya. I mean, Blink did offer ya a tour, but you know, he's not the best tour giver around here...Kate? Kate?"

Jack peered over his bunk and saw that Kate was already asleep. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind, and fell back onto his own pillow.

_"Ya haven't smiled like dat since...I dunno, ya announced ta all of us dat the strike was ovah."_

Mush's words rang in Jack's ear. He knew he was right. That was the one question in his mind that had been bugging him since last night. He sighed to himself, trying to sort out his emotions, while the rest of the newsies slept soundly in their beds. Before he knew it, Jack, too, was fast asleep.


	9. Tours: By Blink

**Chapter Nine: Tours: By Blink**

The next day, all of the newsies met again at Tibby's for lunch. Kate was becoming more and more popular with all of the boys, and they all liked her a lot. Race was still trying to teach her how to play blackjack, as Jack, Mush, and their newest newsie, Marcus, watched. He was new to Manhattan, and Race had decided to show him the ropes. While he claimed he was eleven years old, he looked like he was seven, a perfect selling partner for Race.

"Ok, so if I have under 16, it's safe to get another card?"

"Usually," replied Race, answering Kate's question. "I mean, for a beginner like yourself, it would be wise. For me, on the other hand, I like to play it dangerously." He winked at Marcus, who returned with a smile.

"Yeah, so dangerous that ya lose nearly every time you go ta Brooklyn," quipped Mush. Race shot him a glare.

"Your catchin' on pretty quick," said Jack. Kate smiled at him and said "Yea', it's not so hard after all."

"Hey, Kate! Ya ready ta go?"

Kate turned around to find Blink standing behind her.

"Oh, that's right! A tour. Sure, I'm ready. Thanks guys. I'll see you later. We'll finish our game tomorrow, Race," she said, as she winked at Race. She promptly handed him his cards and followed Blink out the door.

"Cowboy...hey! Cowboy!" Race snapped his fingers in front of Jack's face, bringing him back to reality.

"Wha? What?" said Jack, turning back around in his seat.

"Nothin', I was just wonderin' how long you was gonna make sure she was completely out of sight before ya stopped starin'," retorted Race. Jack shot him a warning look. Race just laughed. "Come on, play a game of Blackjack wit' me." Race began to deal out his cards, as Marcus looked on with curiosity.

"Well, what are we gonna play for? The money we don't own?" asked Jack.

Race looked thoughtful for a minute, then said "If I win, you gotta sell the rest of me papes. If you win, then I'll impart ta you some of my greatest advice." Jack looked very skeptical at this advice, but obliged to play nonetheless.

Race dealed out the cards, but it didn't seem to matter what Jack had. Race had "automatically" gotten 21. _Blackjack_.

"And for da lucky winner, 22 of the finest papes from New York," announced Race, handing over the "prize" to Jack. Marcus crossed his arms, satisfied that his selling partner had won. Jack rolled his eyes and began to get up to leave.

"Hey, hey, now. Don't be a poor loser. Look, I'll even give ya the advice anyways, fair?"

Jack sighed. "All right, Race. What's this advice?"

Race quickly shuffled his cards into a neat deck and leaned over to Jack.  
"She won't ever know how ya feel if ya just stare after 'er."

Jack looked at Race, and had to laugh. Race, who knew more horses names than girls names, had actually made sense.

"Tanks, Race. I'll catch up with youse later."

"Just doin' my duty ta impart my knowledge to other less fortunate newsies," said Race, bowing, as he moved on to another newsie to swindle money from.

"And the whole strike happened right here?" asked Kate.

"Well, not the whole strike, but a good part of it," replied Blink.

For the whole afternoon, Blink had taken Kate on a grand tour of Manhattan. He had shown her Central Park, Grand Central Station, City Hall, among others, and now had wrapped up the tour where the strike had all began, in front of Horace Greeley's statue. They both had a great time. Kate discovered that Blink was one of the most genuine newsies, and the one of the best listeners. Blink found the same qualities in Kate. He felt so comfortable with her, that he even told her about his past and why he wore an eye patch. She, in turn, had told him why she was really here, which he listened to intently, even though he already had heard it once before from Jack. Kate even found out that Blink secretly liked opera, something she was very familiar with.

By the time they reached the statue, they were already joking around with one another like they had been best friends for their whole lives. It was nearly seven o'clock, and the sunlight was slowly fading from the sky, as they made their way back towards the lodging house. They had now gotten to the topic of the all of the boys at the lodging house.

"Aww, Mush has always been real shy around girls. He still blushes when ya talk 'bout his last girlfriend in front of him."

Kate laughed. "Yeah, Jack said he can't talk to a girl alone unless he's with you," she quipped. Actually, Jack had said neither of them could talk to a girl alone, but Blink was doing a pretty good job of it.

Blink chuckled. "So, what about you, Blink?" asked Kate. "Do you have someone in your life?"

Blink suddenly found his shoes to be terribly interesting, and put his head down. "Come on, who is she?" she said, as she folded her arms.

Blink looked up again, smiling, and said "Well, she doesn't know me yet, but I see 'er everyday selling papes. An' she always buys one from me! It's just that-

"You don't know what to say to her?" said Kate.

"Yea! I really don't. I'm sure someday I'll muster up enough courage ta speak ta 'er."

"You should," said Kate, with a sudden softness to her voice.

Blink looked at Kate. "Kate, ya know, I like ya and all, but I just really think that we're meant ta be friends."

"No, no! Blink, I didn't mean it that way! I was just curious. Of course we're just friends!" She clapped a hand over her mouth, trying to stiffle her laughter.

A look of relief washed over Blink's face. "Ohhh, good, cause I got worried for a minute there." The expression on his face was priceless. Kate had to laugh at him.

"Sorry for the confusion!" she said. "But, I really do consider you to be a good friend. I haven't had very many close friends in my life, but...you're so easy to talk to. I feel like I've known you forever."

Blink smiled. "Yeah, same wit' you. Some of the guys have had girlfriends time an' time again, but they weren't like you. You're...different."

"You better mean that in a good way," she threatened, in a good-natured way. Blink laughed.

They stopped walking and were just a few blocks away from the lodging house. Blink turned towards her.

"'Sides, I didn't really think you liked me romantically anyways."

Kate gave Blink a puzzled look. "Why's that?"

"Cause, I mean..." Blink scratched his head, searching for words. "Well, just, take your own advice, I'se guess."

"What are you talking about, Blink?" she questioned.

"Ya know, how you said I should finally tell that one girl about how I feel. Well, you're right. Ya shouldn't keep your feelings bottled up. Tell him."

Kate turned away from Blink. "I don't have any idea what you're talking about, Blink."

Blink gently put his hand on her shoulders and turned her to face him. "Kate, ya can't lie ta me. Even though I've really known ya for...'bout five an' a half hours, it doesn't matter; I can see it in your eyes, whenever he's around, you light up. Even before, when you weren't exactly social, you'd always pay more attention when he'd walk inta a room. Don't torture yourself any longer, and just tell him how ya feel."

"I wish it were that easy Blink," said Kate, who felt it useless to argue. "I just...I don't know." She turned away from Blink, to prevent her laughter from escaping her lips. Grinning, she began to walk on towards the lodging house. "You're right, Blink, I should tell him."

"Really? That's great, cause he'-

"How can I tell Mush?" Blink stopped dead in his tracks.

"What!" he shouted. "Ya like Mush? An' all dis time I thought it was Jac-

"Blink! Blink!" said Kate, through laughter. "I don't like Mush like that! I was just joking around! Calm down!"

"Dat wasn't funny," scoffed Blink, as he pretended to feel insulted.

"I'm sorry...hey, I was just trying to lighten to conversation. You're right..it's not Mush."

"Well, dat's good," retorted Blink, still put off about her joke.

Kate put her arm around Blink. "It's Kloppman."

Blink grinned at her. "Yeah, he's madly in love wit' ya. Ya better tell him soon how ya feel!" They both laughed, and Blink playfully punched Kate in the arm.

"But Blink, seriously, don't say anything to him. I don't want him to find out. It's just that-

Blink smiled at her. "I understand," he said. He held up his right hand, looking like he was about to take an oath. "I promise...I will not tell you-know-who."

"Thanks Blink. I really mean it, thanks." He nodded.

"Come on," he said. "Let's go home."


	10. The Storm

**Chapter Ten: The Storm **

For the next two days, Kate decided to sell papers with Blink, simply because she wanted to get to know him a little better. Jack thought he had done something wrong, but Kate reassured him that nothing was amiss. Still, he felt like something was up.

When Kate told Jack she was selling with Blink on the third day, Race knew he was clearly upset. When he tried to talk to him about it, Jack just shook him off and walked away.

When everyone returned to the lodging house that night, a few boys were downstairs as usual, while the rest were upstairs playing card games and such. The clouds looked like they were going to rip apart with thunder at any time. All of the newsies knew that the remaining thunderstorms left in the autumn would quickly turn to snow in a few weeks time, so they knew not to complain when a simple rain storm passed through.

Proceeded by a burst of laughter, Kate walked in with Blink in tow, laughing the hardest she had laughed in a long time. Jack was sitting by the window with Mush and David, and he looked less than happy.

"What's so funny?" asked Jack, obviously jealous of the attention Blink was receiving.

Kate saw Jack and blushed. "Nothing! Oh, Blink, he just kinda tripped on his own two feet, and fell flat on his face." She continued to laugh, while Jack continued to look quite put off.

"It was so funny, Jack, and hey! You tripped me!," he said, pointing at Kate. "Now my face is fulla dirt!" Blink proceeded to wipe his face with the underside of his shirt.

Jack got up and quickly walked up the stairs. Kate immediately stopped laughing and looked at Blink. He looked just as confused as she did. "What's wrong with Jack?" Kate asked. "What happened?"

However, neither Mush nor David had any idea either. Kate quickly turned to Blink and gave him a hug, thanking him for the day.

"Don't worry 'bout 'im, Kate. I'm sure it's nothin'," reassured Blink. Kate nodded and said goodnight to Blink, Mush and David, who repeated the same to her. She quickly ran upstairs to her room to look for Jack. Discouraged, she found the room completely empty. She wanted to see if he was all right, but unfortunately, he was no where to be found. Frustrated, Kate decided to turn in early, as she was exhausted from her day's work with Blink. Outside, a terrific bolt of lightning ripped through the sky, and a crash of thunder shook the entire lodging house.

**-**

Jack saw the thunderstorm start as well. After he ran upstairs, he ventured up to the roof, a place where he always came to be by himself and think. _Why did I get myself involved wit' 'er? An' she likes Blink_!, he thought. He kicked a stray pebble, letting out his frusteration. Carefully, he sat down on the roof's ledge, letting his feet dangle below him. He sat thinking like that for a long time, until the sound of footsteps behind him caused him to turn around.

"Oh, it's you," smirked Jack, as Blink came and sat down next to him.

"Hey Jack," he said. Before he could get another word out, Jack cut him off.

"Ya know, Blink, I thought we was friends."

Blink looked very confused. "We is friends, Jack, whattya tal-

"If ya had liked 'er, ya could've told me before!"

Again, Blink tried to get a word in. "Jack, she's-

"And now I'm gonna lose my best friend too! How could ya Blink? I mean-

"JACK!" Blink screamed. "Would'ya shuddap for a minute so I could talk?" Jack immediately stood up, face to face with Blink.

"Alls I gotta say is that you better watch yourself." A pointed finger shot out from Jack's side straight to Blink's chest. "'Cause she's a special girl, and I-

"JACK! FOR DA LOVE OF GAWD! Put a sock in it!" screamed Blink, exhausted, as he roughly grabbed Jack by the shoulders. "I do not like Kate dat way! Meeska, we'se simply friends, nothin' more."

"What?" spat Jack, contemptuously.

"I don't love 'er! She doesn't love me! We'se just been selling papes togetha as friends, Jack. Besides, don't you-

Blink cut himself off. He couldn't tell Jack how Kate felt about him. She made him promise not to. No, she would have to do it herself.

"-don't you know...that I wouldn't do dat to ya?" he stammered, obviously floundering for words. "I knows ya like 'er, lord, we all do." He threw his hands up into the air. "The only person that doesn't know is 'er!"

Jack looked astounded. He was speechless, which was something that didn't happen very often. Trying to maintain some level of composure, Jack said "Ya...ya don't like 'er? An' she doesn't like you..dat way?"

"No! Jack, I'm tellin' ya, we're just friends...nothing more."

Jack looked slightly more relieved. The whole day, this very topic had been on his mind. Now that it was all cleared up, he felt like a burden had been taken off his shoulders. He grinned.

"God, all dis time, an' I thought you two had somethin' goin' on," he said sheepishly.

Blink just shook his head and laughed. "No, but Jack, are ya gonna tell 'er how ya feel?" Jack turned away from Blink and stared out across the New York skyline. "I mean, ya feel somethin' for 'er, right?" Jack nodded slowly.

"Well, would ya want 'er ta be your girl?" he asked.

Jack turned to him. "Yeah. Yeah, Blink, I think I do. I just don't know how ta say it. She's been through a lot. I dunno how she'd take ta me askin' 'er."

"Well, talk to her, or something." Just then, an idea hit Blink. "Medda's! Ask 'er ta go ta Medda's wit' ya on Saturday!"

Jack's face lit up. "'At's a good idea, Blink! I mean, she used ta be in da theater? She'd prolly like it, right?"

"Yeah, I'm sure she would," reassured Blink. A raindrop hit Blink on the back of his hand.

"Tanks for the idea, Blink!" he shouted, as he began to make his way back downstairs.

"Tomorrow, Jack! She's probably already asleep!" shouted Blink, as the rain finally began to pour out of the sky.

"All right. Tanks, Blink," said Jack.

"Don't worry 'bout it," said Blink, as the two headed inside.

Jack slowly crept into his room, and, as Blink said, Kate was already asleep. He quickly changed in the dark, and climbed up into his bunk bed. He felt so stupid for acting the way he did downstairs. And all of this, because he thought Blink would have taken his girl. _His girl_? She wasn't even that yet. Jack wanted her to be. He wanted it so badly. He liked her from the moment he met her. Of course, being Manhattan's leader, it wasn't so easy for him to admit that. But how would he ask her? At Medda's. He could ask her at Medda's. He pondered this for about a half an hour, as the storm raged outside. He felt like waking her up and apologizing. He laid in his bed, thinking until he finally succumbed to the night and fell asleep.

_ "Splendid performance tonight, my angel," he mumbled, his speech quite slurred from the alcohol._

_ "Archie, please don't," she begged. "Not tonight."_

_ His gaze traveled from her face to other regions of her body, still exposed from her cabaret costume. He began to stagger towards her._

_ "Not tonight?" he repeated. "Not TONIGHT?" His voice was growing louder._

_ "Archie, please, I didn't mean it like that. Please don't get-_

_ Suddenly, he lunged foward and grabbed her by the throat, gazing deep into her eyes. The smell of whiskey was so powerful that it nearly caused her to pass out._

_ "Now, you listen, girl, and listen well. You will never escape me." He violently turned her towards her mirror, forcing her to stare at the reflection. "You are a slut and nothing more. Do you honestly think you could ever be anything else?"_

_ Still forcing her gaze on the mirror, his lips wandered to her neck and upper back, and his hands ventured lower. Her entire body instinctively tensed as her breathing became shallow. He momentarily stopped._

_ "What?" he whispered. "Oh, I know. You're thinking of him." He laughed sadistically. "Do you really think he loves you? A whore?" He put his mouth directly next to her ear. "My whore?" _

_ Before she knew it, he was upon her, placing his hands wherever he chose, each touch more repulsive. She attempted to resist, but her efforts were futile. He was just too strong. He began to unbutton her shirt as he sneered a final word into her ear. "Why would he care for a piece of garbage like you?"_

"Stop...please...no, don't...get away from...me."

Jack awoke with a start. He heard something. He thought it was Kate's voice, but then again, he could have been dreaming about her. When he heard it again, Jack leaned over the side of his bed to find Kate tossing and turning in her sleep.

"I'm sorry! Please...stop...you're hurting me..." She then started to cry. Jack immediately got down from his bed and went over to her, putting his hands on her shoulders, trying to calm her.

"Let go...stop...please!"

"Kate!" Jack shouted. "Kate! Wake up!" He shook her shoulders, attempting to rouse her and sat on the edge of her bed.

"Don't kill me...please, let...me..go!" she shouted. Jack, with a final attempt, firmly shook her, and grabbed her shoulders. She awoke with a start, thinking she was still in the dream.

"No! Let me go! Stop!" She thrashed wildly as she tried to break away from Jack.

"Kate! Stop! It's Jack! Calm down!" He grabbed her arms and made her look at him. Sobbing uncontrollably, she finally realized it was Jack, and collapsed into his arms, shaking. He held her close, and she hugged him very tightly, still reacting to the dream.

"Shh, shh. It's alright," he said, softly. "It was just a nightmare, you're back here now...wit' me." He stroked her hair with his hand, and she gradually stopped shaking, clutching onto him.

"Oh, God. It was awful. I dreamed I was back there, with him...and...he said..." She trailed off and began to cry again.

"Shh," Jack whispered. "He's not here."

She nodded, and heaved a deep sigh. They sat like that until Kate had calmed down a little bit.

"You all right now?" Jack asked. Kate nodded and loosened her grip on Jack. Feeling like there was nothing he could do, and still not able to reveal his feelings for her, Jack began to get up to go back to his bunk, when Kate pulled him back.

"Jack...will...will you stay just a little longer?" she asked timidly.

Jack looked into her eyes. "Sure," he said. He sat back down on her bunk, and she leaned her head against his shoulder. A cool swift breeze swept throw their room, flittering Kate's hair around her head. Jack put a protective arm around her and said "Nothing is going to happen ta you. I promise."

They sat like that for a few minutes longer, until Jack noticed that Kate had fallen asleep. Ever so carefully, he laid her back down on her pillow, and covered her up with her blanket. As he quietly made his way back to his own bunk, the thunderstorm outside slowly dissapated, leaving only a gentle fog in its trace.


	11. An Evening of Theater

**Chapter Eleven: An Evening of Theater**

"Thank you, sir. A nice day to you, too."

The streets were abuzz with business today, as Kate sold her last paper, and returned to Jack, who had just sold his to a street vendor. Nothing was mentioned between the two of them about last night, but Jack thought it wise not to bring it up, unless she did first.

"Ya finished?" she teased. He found it slightly surprising that she was in such good spirits today.

"Yea, I finished, Ms. I-Can-Sell-A-Pape'-Just-By-Lookin'-At-A-Guy," he replied. She laughed. "You wanna head over ta Tibby's?"

She nodded her head and said "Lead on, Cowboy." She fell into step beside him. There was silence for a while, until they were within a block of Tibby's. Jack finally spoke, constantly looking at the ground.

"So, tomorrow...there's, uh...Medda's." Kate looked very confused.

"Medda's?" she inquired. Jack suddenly realized that Kate had no idea what he was talking about.

"Oh, Medda's! I never told ya 'bout dat?" She shook her head and Jack continued. "Medda's...is dis, well..." He trailed off, not wanting to bring up the fact that it was a theater, a place where Kate dreaded to be. "It's, uh...dis place...with chairs...and, uh...-

"It's what, Jack?" she asked, folding her arms in front of her. He wasn't explaining it very well.

"Well..it's..a theater," he admitted. He looked to her for some sort of reaction, but was pleased to find that it hadn't affected her. "Anyways, tomorrow night, she's havin' her new show, and I was wonderin'..."

Jack stopped walking and turned to face Kate. _It's now or never, Cowboy_. "I was wonderin', if maybe, you'd like ta go...wit' me?"

Kate stared at Jack for a minute, before her mouth curled up into a smile. "Sure, I'd love to go with you," she said.

Jack's heart leapt. "Great. All da guys will be dere, Blink, an' Race, and all da other fellas, like Spot and his crew from Brooklyn." he replied.

_Brooklyn_. She tensed at the mention of that word. Jack saw this and immediately said "Don't worry. Dere all good guys...even Spot. And, 'sides," he added, his lips slowly curling into a sly grin, "they won't mess with ya if you're wit' me."

Kate stared back at Jack, trying hard not to break out in laughter. "If I want to be protected, maybe I shouldn't go with you!" Jack looked very insulted, his mouth wide open. Kate took her hand and pushed his chin back up, closing his mouth. "Just kiddin'! I'll go with ya! Now, come on! The boys are going to get all of the good food!"

She grabbed Jack's arm and pulled him into Tibby's, where they both enjoyed a very satisfying meal. Blink couldn't help notice how much Kate was smiling, and he guessed it wasn't due to Tibby's Famous Roast Beef Sandwich.

After an antagonizingly slow working day, all of the Newsies, from Manhattan to Brooklyn were busy getting ready for Medda's show that night. It was a big affair for them. They obviously couldn't afford the extravagent shows on Broadway, but Medda's was their Broadway. And the best part was that she treated them all like they were her own sons.

"Come on, youse guys, or we're gonna be late!" yelled Jack, who had been trying for the past 10 minutes to get everyone downstairs.

Skittery walked up to Jack and grabbed his shoulder. "Jack, ya know, Medda's is only five minutes away."

Jack stared at him. "So?" he asked.

Skittery chuckled. "Jack, the show doesn't start until 8...it's only 7:15 right now."

Jack waved him aside. "Ehh..I'm just making sure we get a good seat, that's all Skitts." However, Skittery wasn't convinced.

"Oh I see," he said between laughs. "You wanna make sure you and your date have good seats, right Cowboy?" He ducked just before Jack clocked him on the head. Okay, maybe he _was_ a little impatient.

"Jack, ya a little antsy tonight?" quipped Race, as he strolled down the stairs.

Jack exhaled an exasperated breath. "Yea, I guess you could say dat. Hey, where's dat kid of yours? Marcus?"

"Ah, yeah. Supposedly he found a girl taday and he's going to visit her...go figure." Race laughed. "Dat kid's got better luck den me."

Jack nervously chuckled thinking about Race's eleven year old protegee. The kid seemed to be very at ease around Race and the other newsies, and they all assumed he would fit in nicely.

"Wouldn't be surprised if he starts ta beat you in poker," shot Jack.

"Yeah, yeah. Shaddup. See ya over dere Jack," he said, as he bounded out the door. Jack unknowingly began to pace about the lobby.

"Come on, Mush! Blink! Specs!" He paced around the lobby impatiently. Gradually, all of the boys filtered down the stairs and out into the street. The only one missing was Kate.

"Kate? Ya coming?" he shouted. Kloppman looked up from his newspaper and shook his head.

A muffled, awkward cry drifted down the stairs. "I'll be right there!" Kate shouted.

Jack ruffled his hair and began to pace again. "Slow down, son! I don't want ya to wear out my floorboards!" said Kloppman.

"I'm sorry, Kloppman. I'm just a little nervous, alright?"

"Ready, Jack?"

Jack spun around to find Kate standing at the bottom of the staircase. Somehow, she had managed to find some hair pins and had pulled her hair back into a simple pony tail, with a few wisps of hair still lingering around her face. It gave her an almost storybook look, elegant, yet simple.

"You look beautiful, Kate," said Kloppman, who had developed a strong affinity for the only girl newsie in his lodging house.

"Thanks, Kloppman." She blushed and attempted to push a few strands out of her face, but to no avail. "Shall we?"

Jack, realizing that his mouth was wide open, remembered himself and quickly opened the door for her. As she exited, Jack shot a final look towards Kloppman, who merely winked in reply. Jack shook his head and hurried ahead to catch up with Kate and the others as they headed off to Medda's.

The lobby of Irving Hall was abuzz with the shouts of newsies, both from Manhattan and Brooklyn alike. Medda had certainly gone all out for her newest show. The lobby was extravagently adorned with festive autumn decorations, and several vendors went from table to table selling candy and drinks. Even the Delancey brothers had turned out for this event, but they knew full well not to mess around with anyone. Especially if Brooklyn was in attendance. After a few run-ins with Spot and his crew, the Delanceys had learned not to pick a fight with one of the most powerful newsies in New York. Perhaps that was why they chose to sit in the back of the theater, instead of in the front row, where Spot had claimed for himself and his boys. The place was already filling up when the Manhattan newsies arrived, and Blink, Mush, and Race quickly headed for their box seat.

"Hey Jack! C'mon! Up this way!" shouted Blink.

"Alright! I'm comin'!" Jack replied, as he guided Kate to their seats. Caught up in the revelry, her eyes were full of amazement.

"This place is really nice. One of the better theaters I've seen," she said to Jack, as they quickly took their seats.

"Yeah, Medda's always kept it in good condition," said Jack. He removed his cowboy hat and set it on a table nearby. "You want anything ta drink?" he asked.

"No, I'm fine, thanks," replied Kate. Jack couldn't help but laugh. It seemed that she was more interested in the theater than anything. Jack scanned the audience to see who was in attendance. He noticed a few boys from Harlem, Queens, and of course, Spot and his crew, right in the front row. Spot caught Jack's eye, and nodded, as Jack did the same. Suddenly, the lights began to dim until they were almost completely out. The house became very quiet, and the curtain began to rise very slowly. Kate turned to Jack and grinned. There was no denying that she did indeed love the theater. She turned back around, and Jack carefully rested his arm across the back of her chair. Blink caught sight of this, and smirked.

As the curtain revealed the stage, an extravagent set was displayed, featuring a colorful spiral staircase in the back, a piano off to the side, and flowers encompassing any empty space in between. The stage was void of anyone except for the piano player, who began to play as soon as the lights were up. The few notes he plunked out were set in a minor key, sort of to an oriental theme. When he began to slow down, Medda suddenly appeared at the top of the spiral staircase, with her back to the audience. She was decked out in her finest and most extravagent dress, fully sequined and sparkling. She slowly turned around, smirked, and began her song.

_Good an' evil_  
_And their merits_  
_Men have argued through history,_  
_as well they should_  
_My philosophy? Any child can see:_  
_Good is evil..and therefore, all evil is...__good!_

The song began to increase in tempo, and Spot and his crew began to shout wildly for Medda. She had obviously chosen a good song, as many of the boys in the audience were memorized by her voice.

_How do you tell evil from good?_  
_Evil does well, good...not so good!_  
_Evil's the one that is free everywhere_  
_Good is the one that they sell_  
_You must decide which is heaven...__and which is hell!_

On the word "you," Medda pointed her right hand towards Spot himself, and all of the boys shouted in approval. He grinned mischieviously. Up in the Manhattan box, the reactions were the same.

_Good men maintain evil's a curse_  
_But it is plain, good's even worse!_  
_Evil's the one that they tell you to shun_  
_Good is the one to embrace_  
_Say that and Satan will laugh right in your face!_

"She's really good!" exclaimed Kate. Jack nodded, agreeing. Medda certainly had each of the newsies wrapped around her little finger. She slowly descended the stair case as the song went on.

_The key thing about good and evil:_  
_each man has to choose_  
_Heaven and hell is a hell'uva gamble to lose_  
_But, as I peruse, this world we abuse_  
_It's hell that we choose,_  
_and heaven must lose!_

Medda was now singing near the piano player, loving every second she was onstage.

_Evil's for me! You can have good!_  
_Doesn't suit me to be Robin Hood_  
_S'easier by far from the way that things are_  
_to remain good an' evil_  
_then try to be evil...and...__good!_

With a big finish, Medda ended her first song, to the reception of thunderous applause and a standing ovation from all of Brooklyn. As soon as the hall had quieted down a tad, she stepped into her spot light.

"Now, now, boys! That was only the first song!" Everyone cheered, begging for more. Race looked over at Jack, and said "You think Brooklyn's enjoyin' themselves?" Jack laughed and Race yelled "Go Medda!" Medda shot a glance up to Manhattan's box and chuckled to herself. She blew Race a kiss and he nearly fainted. She could have stopped the show right then, and Race would have died a happy man.

But she didn't stop it right then. The entire night was filled with wonderful songs, ranging from ballads, to upbeat numbers, and even an occasional raunchy song, much to the delight of her audience members. Medda had added some chorus girls to a few of her numbers, and some lucky ones even got the chance to sing by themselves in front of the entire audience.

As the show carried on, a few of the newsies had left the show so they could get back to their respective lodging houses in time, and a few tables had opened up down below. Mush asked if everyone wanted to grab a table downstairs during intermission, and they all obliged. As the second act progressed, Jack and Kate had significantly moved closer to one another. Blink raised an eyebrow when he caught Kate's attention, and she replied by promptly smacking him on the back. He got the hint.

As the show was nearing the end, Medda had her stage manager dim the lights a little lower, and the piano player began to play a sweet melody. Kate instantly perked up in her seat.

"What's wrong?" asked Jack.

"Nothing," she whispered, relaxing. "I...I just think I know this song."

As the piano player went on, Medda strolled down the steps of the stage and into the audience.

"I'd like to thank you all for coming tonight. For my last number," she said, as she received several protests from the audience, "I'd like to sing a song that is very dear to my own heart," she finished, and started to sing.

_Perhaps I had a wicked childhood_  
_Perhaps I had a miserable youth_  
_But somewhere in my wicked miserable past_  
_I must have had a moment of truth_

_For here you are, standing there, loving me_  
_whether or not you should_  
_So somewhere in my youth, or childhood_  
_I must have done something good_

Jack turned to look and Kate, and she was entranced by Medda's song. Subconciously, she had even started mouthing the words. As Medda reached the last refrain, a sweet smile had crept across Kate's face.

_Nothing comes from nothing_  
_Nothing ever could_  
_So somewhere in my youth, or childhood_  
_I must have done something good_

As the piano player played the last few notes, Medda blew a kiss to everyone in the hall, who were standing up, applauding.

"Thank you everyone! You've been a great audience! I'll see you all next week!" she said, and turned and disappeared behind the curtain. Kate, still in love with the song, didn't realize that everyone was leaving until Jack placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Hey," he said softly. "Did you enjoy it?"

She rose out of her seat. "Yes, I loved it. It was wonderful. Can we come back next week?"

"Sure," replied Jack. "An' hey, I'll even introduce ya to Medda herself. How 'bout dat?"

Kate's eyes lit up and she nodded her head enthusiastically. Jack turned to see that most of his boys had already started back for the lodging house. Come on, Cowboy, do it before it's too late.

"So, d'you wanna head back to da lodgin' house and turn in?"

Kate smirked and said "Bed? I couldn't go to bed! Not just yet anyways." She was obviously still entranced by Medda's show. Jack grabbed her hand and whispered in her ear "C'mon...I wanna show you somethin'," as he led her behind the curtain and towards a staircase.


	12. Nothing Left to Hide

**Chapter Twelve: Nothing Left To Hide**

"C'mon. Just up this way."

Kate held on to Jack's hand nervously and they ascended a long flight of stairs. Then, Jack stopped.

"Wait...ya gotta close your eyes." Kate gave jack a questioning look, but complied and shut her eyes. Jack waved his hand in front of her face to make sure she wasn't cheating. "Okay," he said. "Come on."

Slowly, he led her up a few more stairs when they came to a large metal door. As it creaked open, obviously worn by the weather, a light gust of cold air shot past them, making Kate shiver. Jack shut the door behind them and led Kate a few more steps.

"Now..can I open them?" she asked.

"Alright...now."

Kate gasped in surprise when she discovered a million stars twinkling in front of her. She looked around to find that she was on the roof of the theater, which was vacant except for her and Jack, explaining the gust of cold air. The entire New York skyline was lit up, giving the appearance of thousands of Christmas lights.

"What a view," she exclaimed. She walked over near the edge and peered down below, to find several newsies still lingering about the theater.

"Yeah, I come up here sometimes...ta think. It's usually pretty quiet," said Jack. He walked over near her. She shivered as another brisk wind swept across the roof. An awkward silence passed between the two, when they both finally spoke at the same time.

"Kate-

"Jack-

They both laughed at each other. "Go ahead," said Kate.

"No, no, you go ahead," replied Jack. "I can wait." He lazily kicked a stray pebble around on the roof.

"I just wanted to say thank you, for everything," she began, as she sat down on the ledge of the roof.

"Nah, don't worry 'bout it," interrupted Jack. He wasn't very good at receiving compliments, yet Kate continued.

"No, really, I mean it, Jack. Three weeks ago you guys could've just left me on the street. I wasn't looking for help, but, god, I'm glad I ended up with you guys."

Jack joined her on the ledge. "Can I ask you a question?" Kate nodded. "What made ya finally leave da theater that one night I found ya?"

Kate took a deep breath and sighed, avoiding Jack's gaze and looking towards the Brooklyn Bridge. "I don't really know. I guess..." She paused, trying to gather her thoughts, and said "You ever have the feeling that you're slowly starting to lose hope...in anything? Like nothing matters anymore?"

"I have," Jack replied, cutting himself off. He didn't like bringing up his past to anyone, and didn't want to trouble Kate with the details.

"I guess after three years, living in one room, talking to no one but the customers and Archie, I just lost hope in everything. I began to believe I was what Archie said I was."

"An' what was that?" inquired Jack. He looked at her, but her gaze had had not diverted from the skyline.

"Nothing."

She paused. "He told me that I was nothing...that, without him, I wouldn't have a chance of survival on my own. He told me that I belonged to him alone, that I was his property...I began to feel that I wasn't even alive anymore. I...wanted to die, like you wouldn't believe. I just wanted someone to take the pain away."

Jack felt a stab of guilt run through him. He wished he could have found her sooner.

"But none of the customers knew," she went on. "Archie would punish me if I ever gave a bad performance on stage."

She ran her hand along the ledge, its cold, icelike touch running through her fingers. "I had it better than some, though," she continued. "I mean, the other girls had to take customers every night...Archie...kept me for himself..."

A wave of realization finally crept over Jack. She wasn't running from just the beatings. It was so much more than that. The distance she first maintained with all of the newsies, the wary trust. The true seriousness of her situation dawned on Jack, and he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Kate...why didn't you tell me?" he asked, his voice inflected with concern, perhaps even a trace of anger. After all he had been through with her, he had just discovered the tip of the iceburg.

"I didn't know what you'd think of me," whispered Kate, trying to keep her emotions down. She turned away slightly, trying with all of her might to keep calm. "I didn't want you to know that I...was a who-

"You are not a whore!" Jack shouted. Kate turned around suddenly and caught Jack's eyes, burning with conviction. "What he did ta you was not your fault! Ya know dat, don't you?"

Kate once again attempted to steer her gaze away from Jack's, her thoughts confused and broken. _Am I nothing_?, she thought. Jack firmly grabbed her shoulders and made her look at him.

"Please tell me ya don't believe a word dat he told ya," Jack said. Kate shut her eyes, trying to think, fighting against the years of neglect and abuse. Jack shook her and said "You are not his property. Not anymore! Never think dat you're nothin'!" He gently took Kate's face into his hands, his eyes searching Kate's, pleading, for some sort of recognition.

Her voice wavering, Kate said "How can I be anything more...why do I even matter!"

Unable to hold back any longer, Jack instantly leaned towards Kate and passionately placed a tender kiss on her lips. Her lips sent a warmth into Jack's entire body, as she felt the same effects from him. Emotions went reeling through her mind at a lightning quick pace, confusing her thoughts and turning everything upside down. Jack pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against hers.

"I have loved you...from the moment I first saw you," he said, strongly. "Everythin' about you...is like...magic." He delicately smoothed back her hair from her face. "From your eyes, to your smile...to even your temper," laughed Jack. "No matter what the past, I love you for what I see 'ere right in front of my eyes," he finished, softly kissing her forehead as she began to cry.

Jack reached up and smoothed away a tear that was traveling down her cheek. "What?" he pleaded. "What's wrong, Kate?"

Kate brought her hand up to her face and placed it on top of Jack's. She shook her head and said "Nothing! Nothing's wrong!" she exclaimed. "No one's ever said anything like that to me...and, oh god, for the longest time, I've wanted to hear you say that...wanted to tell you that I felt the same way, but I was afraid of being found and taken away. I didn't want the dream to end." She took in a deep breath, taking everything in, the tears freely falling down her face. _Was it true?,_ she thought. _Could he really love me?_

"And now...you're here, telling me that you love me, making everything right. And I'm scared, Jack. I'm scared that I'll be taken away from all of this, from you." She looked directly into Jack's hazel eyes, questioning the difference between reality and fate.

"No one...will ever take ya away from 'ere. I swear to you, I promise ta keep ya safe, no mattah what. Do ya trust me?" Jack wiped away the remaining tears on Kate's face, as she sniffed softly, relishing every moment Jack's hand graced her face. As the last tear vanished, Jack caught Kate's gaze, and their eyes locked, and in that moment, she knew that she had nothing to hide. A stray piece of hair flew across Jack's forehead, and Kate tenderly pushed it aside.

"I trust you," she said, nodding her head. "I've trusted you from that moment on the bridge. I just never thought I'd be brave enough to tell you that..." She stared into his eyes, feeling stronger, and weaker at the same time.

"Tell me what?" asked Jack.

"That...I love you, too," she said.

Jack felt something in his heart that he had never felt before. Yes, Sarah had said that she loved him, as had many other girls, but his heart had never raced this fast before. It was like he was excited, scared, and nervous at the same time. The feeling of happiness inside of him had not been paralleled by anything in his life so far.

"It's good ta hear you say dat," replied Jack, as he tenderly caressed her cheek. She leaned foward and wrapped her arms around him, burying her head into his shoulder. He hugged her back, protectively, and kissed her on top of her head. As they broke apart a few moments later, Jack took her hand in his and helped her up off the ledge.

"C'mon," he softly said. "We'd better get back to da lodgin' house. Dey'll be waitin' up for us." Kate nodded, following Jack down into the theater and out into the streets. Neither of them said a word on the way home, simply enjoying the touch of each other's hand in their own. They walked like that the rest of the way into the lodging house, as they crept silently to their room. A few of the boys saw the couple pass through, but nothing was said. For the first time in a long time, their leader, brother, and friend passed by them with a certain smile on his face that, they hoped, would remain there for a long time.


	13. Place Your Bets

**Chapter 13: Place Your Bets**

"Okay, I won't say it."

"Say what, Blink?"

"That I told you so."

Blink haughtily raised his eyebrow as Kate rolled her eyes at him. She put her hands on her hips, like she always would when someone would make her mad, but Blink knew that she was only joking around.

"C'mon! It's funny. 'Sides, you're happy, right?" he asked. "Admit it. I was right."

Kate couldn't help but smile as she recalled the events from five nights ago. "Yes, Blink," she replied, exasperated. "You were right."

Blink's momentary victory was cut short as his eyes narrowed in one someone across the street. Kate noticed and looked to where his eyes were fixed.

"Ah, that's why your smirk suddenly left your face," Kate quipped. She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. "So, are you going to take your own advice now?"

"Shh, shh. Just a minute," said Blink, as he waved off Kate's comments. Across the street stood a girl of about sixteen or seventeen. Her dress revealed that she was probably middle class, with perhaps some ties to some money. Her blond hair was done up neatly in a bun and covered by a hat, which she clung onto as she perused the contents of the outdoor wagon just outside the deli.

"Blink."

"Blink..."

"Blink!"

"Wha-what?" he shouted.

"You, uh, were staring," said Kate, trying her best not to start laughing.

Blink, trying to find a good excuse, said "Oh, well...I was...y'see, I was just lookin' at da...at da..."

"The..the girl?" finished Kate. "Blink, just go talk to her! Remember what you told me?"

Blink averted his gaze to the ground. "Yeah, but dat's different. You knew Jack. I dunno dis girl." Blink looked across the street again, making sure she was still there.

"Well, you'll never know, unless you try," said Kate, as she playfully pushed Blink towards the other corner. "Get her to buy a paper. Then go from there!" She gave Blink one last look of "stop acting so silly" and then he finally got enough courage to walk over to where the girl was standing. Kate looked on as Blink successfully sold one of his remaining papers to her. She smiled to herself when the two started to strike up a conversation and began to walk towards Tibby's to give Blink some "privacy."

The sun was shining unusually bright for a late November day, even though there was a definite chill in the air. _Winter is just around the corner_, thought Kate, as she smiled to herself. _One more week until December_. She loved winter, even though to many it just brought cold weather and charities begging for money. Winter meant time with family, singing carols, and most importantly, Christmas: her favorite holiday. Her father had always made Christmas so special for her, and she clung to any memories of past Christmases. It wasn't about the gifts. It was just the feeling you always get when you hear a Christmas song, or see a tree all lit up with lights and ornaments. She loved the spirit of the season.

Of course, her recent Christmases had been far from being spirited. Somehow, though, she had managed to keep the spirit alive within herself, while trying to shut out everything that was going on around her. It didn't matter now, though. Her entire past didn't matter now. For the first time in a long time, her life had a purpose, and everything seemed to be looking up.

Honestly, she never thought she'd fall in love. She'd always dreamt of it, and longed for it with every fiber of her being, but when her life at the theater became so intolerable, she'd given up any hope. And now, in just a few weeks, she'd been rescued, taken in, gained several new brothers, and found someone who cared about her...loved her, even. At first, she thought Jack was just some cocky newsie who believed the world was in love with him. But, as she let her walls down, she discovered that there was more to him than her first impression, much like herself. Now, she couldn't go a minute without thinking about him.

A warmth filled her when her thoughts traveled to him. It was almost bittersweet, though. This new start was just what she needed, but her thoughts were constantly plagued with the memories of the theater. There were things of her childhood that she longed to remember, but there were recent memories that she couldn't force her mind to forget. A sharp breeze startled her from her reverie as she noticed that Tibby's was just across the street.

_Wake up_, she thought. _No use worrying about a time that's past._

She leaned her weight against the cold, heavy door to Tibby's and was greeted by a few shouts and hollers from the nearby tables. She quickly prepared herself for a few off-color comments from the boys, which had been the norm ever since they had all found out about her relationship with Jack. Her eyes quickly found him seated at a booth near the back, surrounded by Skittery, Race, Mush, and Marcus.

Jack saw her coming in and quickly stood up to make room for her in the booth. She smiled at him and he quickly returned it. As she slid in, Mush raised his eyebrow at her, and she nonchanlantly kicked him under the table.

"Ow!" he cried.

Jack gave him a confused look. "What happened?" he asked.

Mush quickly stifled his cry and said "Ow-oh-I accidently kicked the table," he explained, rubbing his shin. Kate smirked at him and sat down.

Jack sat back down and slid next to Kate. As much as he wanted to, he still didn't put his arm around her. He was still the leader of the Manhattan newsies; he somehow had to maintain his reputation, even though he figured in a week he wouldn't be acting the same way. Even though she didn't say anything, Kate took the hint and understood.

"Where's our boy Blink at?" asked Race, as he pulled out his deck of cards and began to shuffle them.

Realizing that he would be slightly embarassed if she told them the real truth, Kate quickly said "Oh, he's just finishing up his papers, over by the deli. He told me to go ahead." Jack gave Kate a quick look, and she shrugged him off. He'd gotten the hint; whenever Blink was late for any meal, it was usually due to some girl.

"Well, we'll just have to tell him later 'bout da meeting with Brooklyn next Saturday. He's volunteered ta be our representative dis time," said Jack.

"What's da talkin' about Jack?" asked Mush.

"Ahh, you know territory disputes with Harlem. They're givin' us trouble again. Nothin' we can't handle." Everyone nodded their heads. They understood exactly what Jack was talking about. Every so often, Brooklyn, Manhattan, the Bronx held a special meeting to discuss any territorial problems in their respective districts. All three had a special alliance, and an open animosity towards Harlem.

"Well, I'll be seein' 'im latah. Where and when, Jack?" said Skittery.

"Da usual spot. Only dis time, meet by da third base line at Hailey's Field. Nine o'clock." Skittery nodded gravely. He knew the seriousness of the matter, as did everyone else who sat at the table.

Racetrack finished shuffling his cards and split the deck on the table. "Alright, fellas...who's playing? One more game of poker." Skitts and Mush just groaned while Jack rolled his eyes.

"Race, we just played t'ree games before lunch," said Jack, as he slyly moved closer to Kate, moving his leg to touch hers. Her lips curved into a smile, as she did the same.

"Yeah, an' I'm givin' ya a chance ta redeem yourselves," shot back Race. Jack waved him off and stretched his arm across the back of the bench.

"Alright, Race," said Kate. "Deal me in."

Race, still surprised that anyone had any interest in playing, took a look around the table. "How 'bout..."

He suddenly noticed the lack of remaining papers Kate had, and the overflow that awaited him after lunch. He internally criticized himself for spending so much time at Sheepshead Bay that morning.

"All right," Race began. "We'll bet on papes. Whoevah loses gets da winnah's papes."

Kate, realizing the absurdity of the bet, raised her eyebrow and said "Race...if I win, you only gain six papers. If you win, I'd gain twenty."

Race blinked his eyes and stared blankly at Kate. "So?" he replied.

Kate took a quick glance around the table. "So...why don't we even things up a bit?"

"Meanin'?" he asked.

"Mush, Skitts, how many papers do you have left?" inquired Kate. The two boys quickly gathered up their remaining papers and counted them.

"Five."

"Seven."

Kate curled her mouth up, adding their totals together. She turned to Jack.

"Jack, how many papers do you have left?"

"Three. Why?" he asked.

Kate snapped her finger and said "Okay boys, give me the rest of your papes." Mush and Skitts looked at Kate with a confused expression no their faces and placed their remaining papers on the table. Jack did the same, realizing what Kate was up to.

"Whattya doin' Ka-" started Race, but she quickly cut him off.

"If I win, you get every single one of these twenty-one papers, plus your own. If you win, I'll sell them all. Deal?" she asked, her eyes fixed upon Race's.

Race grinned, already knowing the outcome, and said "All right. It's your funeral."

Race began to deal out his cards, but Kate abruptly grabbed his wrist. "And no cheating."

"All right, all right," shot Race, as he shook off her hand and finished dealing. Jack looked on in amusement. Sure, Kate had improved as a poker player, as well as blackjack, but she wasn't as good as Race, or himself for that matter. But, he wouldn't be the one to tell her that. Why face the wrath of her temper when he was being relieved of his papers for the day?

As Race and Kate exchanged a few cards, some other newsies gathered around the table. Another round went by, as did another, until finally, Race wrinkled his brow in thought. While he appeared to be confused, only he knew that this was a trick. An old ploy he learned from his friend Spades in the Harlem, one of the few newsies from that side of town the Manhattan boys trusted.

"Well?" Race said. "I'm satisfied. Now's da time we find out who gets a day off and who has a lotta work ahead of 'em." A slow smile crept across his face as he fanned out the five cards in front of him.

"Four of a kind...ace's wild." A gentle murmur passed through the onlookers. Sure enough, on the table were all four aces. "So, whattya got?" shot Race.

Kate looked at her hand, seemingly confused. "Well, all I have is a straight..."

"Ah ha!" cried Race, as he began to push the collection of papers towards Kate. "Have fun sell-"

"...a straight flush."

With a flourish, Kate slapped her hand down on the table next to Race's, to reveal a straight flush. The cards reading seven, eight, nine, ten and Jack of hearts did not lie: Kate had won.

A roar of laughter and a shout of congratulations arose from the crowd surrounding the booth as Race sat there, dumbfounded. Even Marcus laughed at Race's misfortune. Kate slyly pushed back the heaping mound of newspapers towards Race and proceeded to stand up. She turned to face Jack, who was laughing and was as dumbfounded as Race was.

"How'd ya do dat?" he sputtered.

She winked in return. "Come on, Jack! Looks like we've got a day off. Why waste it sitting around here?" She climbed over him and exited the booth. "Unless, you want to help Race here sell his papers?" She put her hands on her hips, waiting for a reply. Jack shood his head, realizing how cute she looked when she was cocky.

"All right, all right, I'm comin'," he replied. "Catch ya later fellas." He slid out of the booth, leaving a very contented Mush and Skitts, and a very confused Race.

The harsh click of a cane sounded on the cold, hard floor as someone approached the couple. The owner of the cane cleared his throat, so that he would be heard. He was used to being heard by everyone, whether they agreed with him or not.

"Nice job," said Spot. "A straight flush. Not bad for a beginnah." He swiftly tucked his cane into his belt loop and crossed his arms in front of his chest, his steel blue eyes cutting into Kate's. If it wasn't for the fact that Kate had been trained in the theater, Spot's cold gaze may have given her something to worry about. Behind him stood Shorty, not wanting to interrupt his leader's business.

"Thanks," replied Kate. "Beginner's luck, really."

"How ya doin', Shorty?" asked Jack.

"Great!" beamed Shorty. "Hey! We won our baseball game da oddah day! You shoulda seen it! It was-"

Spot snorted, and interrupted Shorty's humble boasts. "Jack, could I have a word with you?" His hands tightly gripped the top of his cane as his gaze suggested that Jack had better comply, or else.

"Yea, Spot. Whattya want?" replied Jack.

Spot rolled his eyes and shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Not here. Come wit' me outside." He paused. "Alone." He shot a stare meriting the sharpness of a dagger towards Kate, challenging her. Jack understood the seriousness of his message, and began to follow Spot. Shorty followed suit, but Spot said "No, Shorty. You stay 'ere." With a small frown on his face, he remained beside Kate.

"Kate, can ya stay 'ere for a bit? Dis'll only take a minute." Kate nodded, still eerily watching Spot for any sudden moves.

"Come on, kid. Let's go have our own secret meeting," said Kate, as Shorty followed her back to her booth. Jack followed Spot outside to a nearby alley. Something was up. Spot must've been shaken up by something in order for him to hold a secret conversation with Jack.

"What's goin' on, Spot. Is it dat gang in Harlem again?" questioned Jack.

"In a way, Jacky-boy," Spot began, slowly pacing the alleyway. He turned sharply and said "Ya wanna tell me who your girl is?"

Jack was suddenly caught off-guard. Why would Brooklyn's Spot Conlon be asking him about the identity of his girlfriend? "Why d'you wanna know, Spot?" objected Jack.

Spot shook his head. "I'll tell ya, Jack, ever since da moment I met 'er, I've had dis feeling dat somethin's not completely right wit' 'er situation." His eyes were not wavering: he meant business.

"Ya pulled me all da way out in dis alleyway to question me about my girl?" shot Jack, obviously offended. "We only started seein' each other five days ago, an' you'se already thinkin' dat somethin's not right?"

Spot began to pace again. "Not thinkin', Jack. I know somethin's not right." He paused, trying to carefully place his words. "I've seen dis girl before."

"So?" fired Jack. "What's dat got ta do with anythin'?"

"So, the deal is...I think she may be involved wit' Harlem." Jack let off an exasperated gasp, but Spot cut him off. "I'm serious, Jack. Da last time we rumbled, I coulda sworn I saw her mug along side one of those bastards. Hell, I'm pretty sure she swung a punch or two against our boys." Spot turned away from Jack and began pacing again.

Jack knew full well about Harlem's relationship with Brooklyn and Manhattan. It had all started over a territory dispute years ago before either Jack or Spot had taken their respective places as a leader. The dispute had grown to a wary toleration, then finally to an open hatred.

_Could Kate really be from Harlem_? _Was all that she told me a lie_? His mind reeled with thoughts, as he logically tried to sort out what was happening.

"Okay, so if she's from Harlem. What den? Maybe she's just tryin' ta change 'er ways." He could forgive her for lying. Everyone has a past they didn't want to remember.

"Jack! You're not gettin' it! If she's really in wit' Harlem, dat means a lotta newsies are gonna be in danger, 'cause she's da one providin' information to their leaders," said Spot.

Jack shook his head. "No, Spot. You're wrong 'bout dis...you're wrong 'bout her." There was no possible way Kate was in league with Harlem. There was no way the girl he had grown to love could lie to his face like that.

Spot's eyes flashed a glint of doubt, and a sneer overtook his face. "I hope you're right, Jacky-boy. 'Cause I wouldn't wanna be da one to tell my boys dat one of their friends got beat up...because of a girl...a girl dat Manhattan's leader is datin'." Spot spat out these last words bitterly. Not only did he not trust this girl, he was jealous of what she and Jack had.

"Spot, c'mon. Give 'er a chance at least. Ya don't even know 'er."

Spot sighed, folding his arms over his chest. "Yeah, I don't. I'm just hopin' that you do."

With a last glare, Spot started out of the alleyway and was gone before Jack turned around. He doesn't know what he's talkin' about, thought Jack, as he slowly made his way back into Tibby's. He quickly scanned the room and found Kate talking with Shorty and Blink, who, at the moment, seemed very excited. He walked over, as Blink suddenly got very quiet.

"Ya better hurry, Short stuff. Spot might leave without ya," said Jack.

Shorty jumped up immediately, but not before giving Kate a hug. "See ya later Kate!" He scrambled out of the booth and ran out the door after Spot.

"Should I be jealous?" quipped Jack, slightly frowning.

"No!," laughed Kate. "He's a cute kid. What was that all about?" Kate asked, referring to the surprise meeting with Spot.

Jack ran his hand through his hair. _Do I ask 'er_?

"Ahh, nothin'," he lied. "Just a little trouble with da Delancey brother's...dat's all." He wouldn't ask her. Maybe he just didn't want to.

"So, are you ready to go?" Jack had nearly forgotten in the hostile conversation with Spot that Kate had won them a day off.

"Yea," he chuckled. "See ya later, Blink."

"We'll talk later," whispered Kate, as she patted Blink on the back and followed in step behind Jack. The soft chiming of a bell sounded as Jack opened the door and led Kate outside.

"So, whattya wanna do?" asked Jack, as he shoved his hands into his pockets. _Quit thinkin' about it, Cowboy, he thought. She didn't lie ta you, just forget 'bout what he said._

"Well, you could always give me another tour of New York," she mused, twirling the fabric of her skirt in her hand.

"Anoddah tour?" asked Jack. "What 'bout da one Blink gave ya?"

"Oh, Blink was a good tour guide, don't get me wrong. But I've been told by some...reliable sources, that you give the best tours." She smiled and batted her eyes, pleadingly. Jack couldn't help but laugh, as he grabbed her around the waist. She laughed.

"I gotta better idea than anoddah tour. C'mon," he said, as he offered his arm to her. She linked her own through his as they began walking away from the central square.

"Where are we going?" asked Kate.

"To Medda's," he replied. Kate's face lit up.

"That sounds great, but do you think she'll like me?"

Jack laughed to himself. He noticed the similarities between Kate and Medda before, but he never gave much thought to it.

"I'm sure you two will get along just fine."


	14. Home Again

**Chapter 14: Home Again**

"Are you sure we're allowed to be back here, Jack?"

"Shhh! Dere's still a show goin' on."

Jack led Kate through piles of used and old scenery stored backstage as another one of Medda's cabaret shows took place onstage. Medda was just winding up another show and the crowd was going wild, as usual. Thunderous applause filled the theater as the red velvet curtain swung in from either side.

"Wonderful show, Ms. Medda," called a nearby stage hand.

"Thank you, Ben. You're really startin' to get the hang of this stage hand job, aren't ya?" She playfully tousled his hair as she walked off to her dressing room. The boy smiled, blushing slightly from the compliment he had just received. Only thirteen years old and he already was getting the hang of a job usually intended for older men. He fixed his short brown hair back into place, and started to gather up the flowers audience members had tossed onstage.

"Psst! Ben! Over 'ere!"

"Jack? Is'at you?" He peered into the shadows on stage right as Jack and Kate made their way onstage. Ben beamed at the sight of Jack and quickly set down the flowers he was holding.

"Good to see you again, Jack!" he said, spitting into his free hand.

"Yeah, you too, kid." Jack returned the gesture and they shook.

Ben suddenly noticed that Jack wasn't alone and curiously eyed Kate, who was looking all around the stage.

"Who's that, Jack?" whispered Ben.

Jack also suddenly remembered that he wasn't alone, and quickly apologized. "Oh, Ben, dis here's Kate." Kate snapped out of her reverie and stepped up next to Jack. "Kate, meet Benjamin Hardaway. One of Medda's best stage hands." Ben smiled at the praise and stuck his hand out.

"Nice ta meet you, Kate."

"You too, Ben," replied Kate, shaking his hand in return. She smiled at him and he promptly blushed. Sure, he was only thirteen, but it seemed that women were already having an effect on him.

"Say, Ben...d'ya think that we could stop by an' see Medda real quick? I wanted ta introduce 'er to Kate."

"Sure, sure. Ya want me to go get 'er?"

"Nah, dat's alright. I wanna surprise 'er. See ya later, Ben." Jack reached for Kate's hand.

"Nice to meet you, Ben," said Kate. Ben watched Jack and Kate find their way offstage and shook his head. _Cowboy's at it again,_ he mused. However, Ben knew that he too wanted to be just like Jack someday. Sighing, he grabbed a spare broom and continued with his work.

A descending staircase led down to an opulently decorated room, as Kate followed Jack into the basement of the theater. A lavishly upholstered crimson couch sat in the corner near a very colorful lamp. A border of gold surrounded the beige walls. Rich red hues dominated the atmosphere, and it smelled sweetly of peppermint.

"She certainly can decorate," Kate remarked, as she marveled over the beauty of the room.

Jack shrugged. "Dat's Medda for ya." He crossed the room and ventured over to a door with a small gold star painted on the front and carefully knocked three times.

"Just a minute!" yelled Medda's sweet, melodic voice from within the dressing room. "I'll be right there!"

Jack stuck his hands in his pockets and turned on his heels, looking over at Kate. She was staring at some pictures on a nearby coffee table. Jack smiled to himself, reminiscing about the night after Medda's show. He had done it. He had finally told her how he felt. And now, everything felt different. There was something about her that had changed the way Jack looked at things. His spirit had improved; there was no question about that. He hadn't fully realized Kate's impact on him until Kloppman greeted him as he left the lodging house two days ago. Jack yelled out his usual goodbye to Kloppman, who, with a puzzled look on his face, said "Why're you in such a good mood, Cowboy?" Jack just shrugged him off, but realized a few moments later why indeed he was in a good mood: it was because of her. There was absolutely no way a girl like this could be involved with Harlem. Jack pushed all thoughts of betrayal out of his mind and trusted his instincts. Spot would not make a fool out of him.

Jack walked over to Kate, who had picked up a certain photograph of Medda and Denton. He placed his hand on top of her shoulders.

"Who's this, Jack?" she asked, holding the picture up for Jack to see.

"Ah, dat's Denton. He's a paper reportah dat helped out a lot wit' da strike. Nice guy. I should introduce ya to 'im sometime." Kate gently placed the frame back onto its rightful place on the coffee table as Jack's hand found its way into hers.

"Kelly, what are you doin' down here?" a voice rang out. Jack spun around to find Medda, dressed in her best attire, waiting for him by her dressing room door. Jack pushed back the hair from his face and walked over.

"Well, I here dat one of the best performers of all time works at dis theater, and I was wonderin' if I could get 'er autograph?" said Jack, as he swept Medda's hand into his and placed a small kiss on it.

"Always and forever a charmer," laughed Medda. "Shouldn't you be out sellin' your papers?" she asked, sending a reproachful, yet harmless, look in his direction.

"Yeah, but first, I wanted ta introduce you ta someone." Jack walked over to Kate and took her hand. "Medda, dis is Kate. She's been stayin' up at da lodgin' house for quite a while now, and, as it turns out, she also likes da theater."

"Nice to meet you!" Medda said. "Are you a performer as well?" Jack tensed up, fearing that the subject of this question would make Kate feel uncomfortable.

Surprisingly, Kate just smiled and said "I like to sing now and then, I suppose." Jack breathed a sigh of relief. "I greatly enjoyed watching your show, Ms. Larkson."

Medda stifled a small laugh. "Please, dear, call me Medda. All of my friends do. And thank you for the compliment. It's good to have a fellow performer's opinion once and a while."

"Medda 'ere helped out a lot with da strike last year." Medda blushed and attempted to quiet Jack. "She let us use Irvin' Hall once for dis big rally we had."

Medda smirked and said "It wasn't anything big. Just tryin' to help out my boys. For working so hard, they do deserve something in return. Speaking of work, whattya hanging around here for on a perfectly nice day? It's a great day for selling, don't you think?"

Jack made a quick glance at Kate and said "Ah, wouldya believe we already sold out?" Medda shot him a questioning look, but let it subside and just laughed. "Kate's actually pretty good at sellin' papes as well."

"Jack's dragging you along with him to sell papers?" exclaimed Medda.

Kate slyly smiled. "Yeah, but it's fine. I don't mind selling with Jack one bit," she said, as she threw a quick glance in Jack's direction. Meanwhile, Medda stole a quick look up and down at Kate.

"How tall are you?" she asked. Kate, looking utterly confused, replied "Um, about five, five."

Medda furrowed her brow. "Turn around."

Kate cocked her head, but Medda continued to insist. "No, it's all right, just turn in a circle, would you?"

Obliging, yet still confused, Kate slowly made a circle. When she finished, a smile crept across Medda's face. "It just might work," she thought aloud. Kate looked to Jack, who was as bewildered as she was.

"Now," began Medda, "you say you can sing, yes?" Kate nodded affirmatively. "Can you do both choral and solo singing?" Again, Kate nodded in reply.

"Whattya getting at Medda?" asked Jack.

"What I'm getting at," replied Medda, "is that just last night, I had a girl drop from my show...who was about five foot five. It wouldn't have been a problem except she does have some solo singing. Now, I'll have to take over her song, but that leaves a gap in the show."

Slowly realizing what Medda was trying to say, Kate's eyes lit up. "So, if you can hold a part, I might be able to use you in my show." A look of bliss took a hold of Kate's face, as she beamed to Jack. "But, I do want to see what you're capable of. Kelly, is it alright if I borrow her for the afternoon?"

Jack, who had up until now been speechless, finally broke his silence and said "I dunno, Medda. I don't know if Kate here really would like ta do it." He was promptly answered with a swift slap in the arm from Kate. They all laughed and Kate responded "I would love for that chance, Medda."

"Good. Well, that settles it then. You come along with me and I'll show you the music." Medda began to walk down the hall and Kate followed her, as did Jack.

"Uh uh, Kelly. This is a closed rehearsal. Performers only!" Medda smirked at him, and Jack, protesting, crossed his arms over his chest. Medda took the hint and said "I'll, uh...just be right down here, Kate. Just meet me down there when you're ready to go. See ya later, Kelly."

With that, Medda hustled off towards another room. "What was dat?" asked Jack, his arms still crossed across his chest.

"You heard her, Cowboy. Performers only!" Kate began to shoo away Jack, but he caught her hands and wrapped them behind her back. She giggled in protest.

"I'll see you back at Tibby's den?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes. "Of course," she replied, her face inches from Jack's. Swiftly, he bent down and kissed her on the lips. As much as she wanted to stay with Jack, she broke away after a few seconds, and said "Duty calls!" Jack gave her hands one last squeeze and headed for the stage.

"Coming, dear?" called Medda.

Kate took one last look around the parlor and sighed to herself, content. "Yep. I'll be right there."


	15. Tools of the Trade

**Chapter Fifteen: Tools of the Trade**

Although the poker game between Kate and Race was perfectly legit, and Kate had legally won a day off of selling for her and Jack, (as well as the other boys), Jack didn't have the heart to leave one of his best friends stuck with forty-some papers. After he left Kate at Medda's, Jack decided to go help his friend "improve the truth," and in a few hours time, with the combined efforts of Jack, Race, and Marcus, all of the papers were sold.

As they approached Tibby's near dinner time, Jack couldn't help but notice how much colder it was outside. He had a bad feeling that winter would come at full blast this year, as last year only troubled them with a few flurries and freezing temperatures. He shivered at his thoughts, and hurried along side Race and Marcus towards Tibby's.

A very smug-looking pair of newsies sat at the central table together with their feet resting on top of a vacant chair as the trio made their way to join them.

"Have fun sellin' papes?" inquired a very satisfied Skittery.

"How was your day?" asked an equally satisfied Mush, his smile extending from ear to ear.

"Ehh, shaddup, all of youse," snapped Race, as he threw his hat down on the table. "You'se better watch your backs da next time we play poker." He plopped down into an empty chair, followed by Jack and Marcus.

"You're not da one we'se concerned 'bout, Race," quipped Mush. "It's Jack's girl we're gonna watch out for!" Skittery laughed and slipped Mush a quick high-five. Marcus giggled to himself, but regained his composure when Race shot him a threatening look. "Speaking of," continued Mush, "Where is Jack's girl...Jack?"

"Jack's girl can tell you all when she gets 'ere," replied Jack.

"What about Jack's girl?" inquired a voice.

All five boys turned to find Kate standing in the doorway, flanked by Blink and Crutchy. She remembered her first run-in with Mush, and smiled when he referred to her as "Jack's girl."

As Kate, Blink and Crutchy made their way to sit down, Jack pulled a chair out for Kate and said "Oh, nothing. Just talkin' 'bout how she's da most annoying girl in the whole entire world. Really, she's awful."

Jack knew full well that a blow would be coming from Kate's short temper, so he quickly put up his arm to block the oncoming slap. Kate giggled and tried to break free, but Jack grabbed her hand and started tickling her instead.

"Aww, ain't dat cute?" said Skittery.

"Yeah, gag me with a spoon," scoffed Race. Jack and Kate immediately stopped their tickle-fest, yet Jack kept his hand in hers. She smiled and rolled her eyes at Skittery and Race.

"So, Kate, where were ya?" asked Blink. "I know I met up wit' ya outside, but how come ya were alone?"

"Yeah, how come ya made Jack go off and sell the papes...which you rightfully, and might I add, legally, got rid of?" asked Skittery. Race scowled at him.

Kate blushed. "Well, I was going to tell you all back at the lodging house, but I guess I could tell you now."

"What, Kate? Tell us what?" shot Mush.

"That I...got a new job." She smiled at Jack, who returned the gesture. "Starting next Saturday, I'll be a part of Medda's show at Irving Hall."

"Are you serious? That's awesome, Kate!" said Blink, showing a smile almost as big as Kate's.

Shouts of congratulations were voiced all around the table, and soon all of the newsies inside of Tibby's were clued in to Kate's news. Race, who was somewhat bored with the whole tough guy act, soon forgot about the historic poker game that had taken place a few hours ago, and joined in with the rest of the boys, asking Kate questions about her new job.

"All right, all right. So, when do ya start?" asked Race.

"Well, I'll have to go to a rehearsal every afternoon for the next week or so, then I'll get to perform next Saturday."

A very perplexed Mush scrunched his eyebrows together. "So, does this mean dat you won't be a newsie anymore?"

Kate shook her head. "Of course not, Mush," she replied. "I'll still sell in the morning with you guys. But, as soon as we finish lunch, it's straight to Medda's for rehearsal."

"You sure you wanna handle two jobs?" asked Jack. "It's all right if ya just wanna perform at Med-"

Jack was cut off as Kate put a finger near his lips. "Are you implying that I can't handle two jobs, Jack?" She raised her left eyebrow, challenging his implication.

Jack grinned and started to laugh. There was no use arguing with her: she would have her way in the end. "I ain't makin' any implications whatsoever, all right?" he said. "'Sides," he continued, "I'd be afraid you'd soak me if I didn't let ya sell papes!"

Kate folded her arms across her chest, satisfied. "You're damn right," she replied.

"All right, enough already," shot in Race. "We've all had a hard day." He shot a glance in Mush and Skittery's direction. "Some easier than others. Let's eat, eh?"

The boys and Kate followed Race's lead and all ordered something for dinner. By the time they had all finished their meals, Race was back to his old tricks, scamming nearby tables of their hard earned money with the help of his friends Blackjack and Poker.

-

As the evening dragged on, the air began to grow colder and the newsies started to head on back to the Lodging House. Jack and Kate led the pack at the very front, hand in hand, with Race and Marcus bringing up the rear.

"I hope I'll do all right," mused Kate, as she inhaled a deep breath of the crisp, evening air.

"You're gonna be great," reassured Jack, who gave her hand a comforting squeeze. "Don't worry. I'll make sure all of da boys are sittin' right in da front row." Kate smirked, promptly smacking Jack in the chest.

"This afternoon was the first time I've sang in a long time. I don't even know if I can still handle it...the crowd, the music," sighed Kate.

"Well, if Medda hired ya, then she musta saw somethin' in ya that was good, so quit doubtin' yourself. Just have fun, I guess."

"I guess you're right," replied Kate. "I'll only be performing for a bunch of poker playing newsies anyways, right? Who cares what they think?"

Jack feigned a look of hurt, but quickly regained his usual smirk. Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Hey, speakin' of poker, where in da world did you learn ta play like dat today?" he asked.

Trying to stifle a small laugh, Kate grinned and continued on walking. "Oh, you know, it was nothing. I pick up things quickly, I guess. I think I just had luck on my side today, that's all."

Jack, not buying a word of what Kate was saying, said "Come on. Even Spot Conlon don't get dat lucky in a poker game. Ya beat four aces, need I remind ya. Spill."

Kate rolled her eyes, something she was very good at, and put her hands on her waist. "All right. You figure this one out, Jack. If you're stuck in a theater, hanging around grog-swilling, poker-playing low lifes for a majority of your life, somehow you're going to pick up on a few card games here and there. It's almost a requirement. One of the tools of the trade, if you will."

"Okay, okay...but be honest with me: did ya cheat?" inquired Jack.

Kate chuckled slightly. "Are you kidding me? What's the fun in playing cards if you have to cheat to win? You only cheat when your luck is down and the stakes are high."

"Sounds like something Spades would say," mused Jack, speaking of the Harlem newsie who was even better than Spot at poker. Kate's eyes suddenly became very fixated with the ground and her shoes.  
Jack shot her a questioning look. "Kate, what's dat look for?" Sheepishly, Kate drew her eyes up to meet Jack, her lips slowly pursing into a sly smile.

"What?" she responded.

"Are you meanin' ta tell me...you know Spades Kearney? Spades Kearney of Harlem?" Jack asked incredulously.

Kate sighed once again and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Spades was a frequent visitor of the theater. He used to come a lot in the early days of the theater, and we became acquaintances. To make a long story short, he taught me a few tricks when it comes to playing cards."

Jack blinked, still unable to comprehend all that he was hearing. "So, wait. Lemme get dis straight," began Jack. "You've known through all of dese weeks how to play poker and blackjack, and you haven't said a word to any of us about it?"

"Hey, I wasn't sure if at anytime I would have needed to con a few dollars off any of you. I can have a few secrets, can't I?" asked Kate.

Jack laughed. "Sure, just not too many that I don't know about," said Jack as he slipped his arm around her waist and began walking again.

Suddenly, a flashback of his rendezvous with Spot came into focus, and Jack's thoughts were interrupted by the doubts Spot had put there. "They're aren't any more secrets I don't know about, right?" he asked, stopping dead in his tracks.

Kate looked up at Jack and took his hand in hers. "Jack, do you trust me? I know I trust you more than anything, but do you trust me?"

"Course I do," he replied.

"Then believe me. I am totally honest with you about everything."

Jack smiled at her; he had to, looking down at this spitfire of a girl who would so readily jump in a river than lose an argument. "What?" she asked. "Whattya smilin' at?"

"Just da stubbornest girl in all of New York...who is slowly beginnin' to develop a Manhattan accent."

"What can I say?" Kate replied, wrapping her own arm around Jack. "It just rubs off on ya."

"Jack! Jack!"

Jack spun around to find Race shouting his name. "Race, what's goin' on?"

"Nothin', just...can I talk to ya for a minute?" Race seemed like he wanted this to be a private conversation; Kate saw the same look on Spot Conlon's face when he wanted to talk to Jack outside.

Jack looked at Kate but she quickly said "No, go ahead. I need to talk to Blink anyways. I'll just see you back at the lodging house, then?"

"Sure," responded a somewhat confused Jack. Kate headed back to find Blink, and they were soon lost in conversation about a certain girl Blink had finally talked to that day.

"Okay, Race. What's da deal here?"

Race took Jack's look of annoyance and quickly appeased it. "Hey, hey. Don't get all mad wit' me. It's nothin' serious. I just need ta know when da meetin' is with Brooklyn and da Bronx."

"Race, I though Blink was goin' for us dis time."

Race shoved his hands into his pockets. "Nah, I talked ta Blink. He says he went last time. Remember? 'Bout two weeks ago?"

"Damn, you're right, Race. He did go last time." Jack glanced nervously about the street. "So, it's your turn dis time around?" Race nodded uneasily. "All right. Da meetin' is next Saturday at nine o'clock. At da third base line of Hailey's Field." Race nodded solemnly, and started to walk back to Marcus, until he abruptly stopped.

"Hey, Jack. Can I ask ya a question?"

"Sure, Race. What is it?"

Race quickly ran a hand through his jet black hair. "Well, I was just...well, we all was just wonderin'...are ya gonna tell Kate what's goin' on wit' Harlem an' all? I'm sure she prolly doesn't appreciate all dese secret conversations, and she's bound ta find out sooner or later."

Jack sighed heavily. His mind ran back to what Spot has said earlier that day. "I think she may be involved wit' Harlem." True, Spot may have been completely off in his assumptions, but Jack didn't want to risk the safety of his boys for anything. Spot was a trusted friend, yet so was Kate. There was no doubt in his mind that Kate had nothing to do with Harlem; yet he wondered why something in the back of his mind prevented him from telling her. Silence was the best defense in this situation.

"I'm not gonna get her involved in anything that could put her in danger. The least she knows about it for now, the better." Not a complete lie, but it would work. He wanted to keep Spot's accusations between him and the alley for right now. No use in worrying his boys about something that was completely impossible.

"All right," shrugged Race. "But, Jack?"

"Yeah, Race?"

A smirk crossed Race's mouth. "I'll bet you my playin' cards that if she were to find out without you tellin' her, she'd soak ya." A small laugh escaped Jack's lips. "Even I'm not dumb enough to take dat bet, Race."

A small hand suddenly reached up and tugged at Race's sleeve. "Hey, Marcus. Whattya want?"

"Snipeshooter sent me up here ta see if you wanted ta play him in a round of poker when we get back." Marcus crossed his arms in an authoritative manner, making a quite comical sight. Here, an eleven year old, who looked no older than seven, had the stance of Spot Conlon himself. "I told 'im he was makin' a big mistake, but he didn't listen."

Race playfully ruffled his hair. "All right, kid. Go tell 'im that he's gotta deal."

Marcus ran off to find Snipeshooter as Jack and Race laughed to themselves. The outline of the lodging house loomed in the distance, framed by a full moon. "Seems like dat kid's got more spunk than all of Harlem combined," joked Race.

"Let's just hope dat Harlem ain't in any mood ta start somethin' next Saturday," said Jack, resuming his sober attitude towards anything concerning Harlem.

"Hey, ya got me goin', right? One of da toughest newsies dis side of the bridge. With a poker reputation that proceeds him, if I do say so myself. Whattya concerned about?" Race gave Jack a huge smile.

"Ya know, you worry me," replied Jack, as he began walking towards the Lodging House. "Ya really worry me!"

Race scrunched his eyebrows, furrowing his brow. "What?" Jack just smiled to himself and kept on walking, with Race as confused as ever.

"What!"


	16. Forgetting the Past

**Chapter Sixteen: Forgetting the Past**

The next week seemed to pass like a blur for all inhabitants of the Manhattan Lodging House. The headlines were uncharacteristically good for a change and the papers sold rather well, despite the onset of frost and a few occasion snow flakes which would disappear as quickly as they had come. December was finally here, much to the dismay of many newsies all over New York. December meant less profit and empty bellies. However, the desolate cloud of feelings surrounding the season was not apparent at the Manhattan Lodging House.

Almost everyone that owned a bed at the Lodging House had something to be happy about. Just something random that put a slight spring in their step when they walked. Jack was the epitome of this statement. As his relationship with Kate progressed, he seemed to become more patient and understanding with the other newsies. He even began to show Marcus, Race's protegee, a few of his tricks he had only shown to Les, simply because Les had the face that could sell a paper. With Marcus, it was a lot of hard work because of his headstrong attitude, but little by little Marcus gained Jack's trust and even began to outsell Race.

Race, on the other hand, couldn't have been happier. He had received his Christmas present early that year, when he finally bid on a winning horse at Sheepshead Bay. He returned to the Lodging House one day with a smile spanning from ear to ear and a pocket full of money. Of course, he didn't keep all of his winnings. When you lived as a newsie, you learned how to share things, and that's exactly what Race did. He put enough side to cover himself for a few days, but split the rest amongst Jack, Mush, Blink, Skittery, Marcus and Specs, his closest friends.

Suspicions arose when Blink began to return to the Lodging House at night with an unusual smirk on his face and a bounce in his step. It seemed that he too had something to smile about, when only he and Kate knew the true meaning why his disposition was constantly pleasant.

"Whattya smilin' at, Kid?" shot Race one day. "Did'ya see an angel or somethin'?" Blink sighed heavily, and could only respond with "In a way."

However, the happiest of them all was Kate. No matter how much she could attempt to show how relaxed she was about the upcoming show, there was no way she could hide her excitement. She had forgotten the thrill of performing, and was elated to be back on stage again, even if it was just as a chorus member. A unique friendship developed between herself and Medda during the days of rehearsal leading up to the show. It wasn't like she had discovered the mother she never had, nor did she yet confide in Medda like a best friend would; there was simply a magical understanding between the both of them, which allowed them to connect in a special way. Kate couldn't explain it to Jack when he asked her about it, except for the response that Medda was a "kindred spirit" in a way.

Thus passed the first week of December in the Manhattan Lodging House. In one short day, newsies from the various burroughs would be returning to Manhattan for the promised encore of Medda's show, much to the delight of Spot Conlon and his boys. All of Jack's boys were very excited for Kate's debut, wishing her good luck and shouting cries of 'break a leg!' at Tibby's on Friday night. After the meal, all inhabitants of the Manhattan Lodging House returned home, and the usual poker game started up in the basement. Rumor had it that Race had even started a bet on what color Kate's outfit would be in the show tomorrow.

"C'mon, Kate. You tell me what you're wearin' and I'll split the profits wit' ya seventy-thirty!" inquired a very eager Race before he headed down to play poker with the boys. However, Kate shook her head.

"No way, Race. You'll just have to wait until tomorrow to see what I'm wearing!" shot back Kate, as she began to ascend the stairs.

"Aw, but I wanna know what you're wearin' right now!" shouted Race, who was instantly tapped on the back.

"What piece o' clothin' are you askin' 'bout, Race?" inquired a rather suspicious-looking Jack. Kate poked her head into the doorway leading downstairs.

"What do you think, Jack?" said Kate, as she seductively lifted her eyebrow. Race instantly raised both his hands in the air.

"Hey! Hey! I'm not dat kinda gambler!" cried Race, and he quickly dashed downstairs, nearly tripping over his feet on the way.

"Don't tell me you're mad," said Kate, meeting Jack at the bottom of the stairs.

"Well, of course I am!" lamented Jack. "I didn't get a chance to place a bet!" Kate quickly raised her hand to smack Jack, but he caught it, and instead, brought it to his lips. "Can ya blame me?" he asked.

Kate's lips pursed into a grin. "Oh, I hate you," she snickered.

"No ya don't. C'mon," replied Jack, let's go upstairs."

Kate exhaled a anxious sigh. "I can't go to bed yet, I'm absolutely too nervous about tomorrow."

"Not da bunk room," replied Jack. "Da roof."

A few moments later, Jack and Kate were engrossed in conversation, sitting underneath both a blanket of fleece, and a blanket of stars, as millions filled the night sky. Like most nights, the air's harsh chill threatened to deliver the first real snowfall of the year, yet the sky was clear and devoid of any rogue flakes. The only sign that it was winter was the steam escaping Jack and Kate's mouths as they spoke, rising languidly into the air.

"They wanted to name him Blondebeard the Pirate?"

"Dat, among other things," replied Jack, softly chuckling. "They almost called 'im Pirate, but realized dat dere was already a Bronx newsies wit' dat name, so we all settled on Blink."

Kate laughed, wrapping herself tighter into the blanket that spread across herself and Jack. She placed her hand on his leg, and he gently took her hand in his. For the past half hour, Kate had been learning all sorts of things about the Manhattan newsies; things that many of the newsies were not proud of nor wanted anyone else to hear about. The latest victim was none other than Blink.

"So, you've told me about Race, Mush, Blink, Specs, and Skittery," said Kate. She paused for a moment, then said "So, what's the great legend of the mighty Cowboy?"

Jack laughed. "Ehh, it's a long and boring story. Ya wouldn't wanna hear it," he said, moving closer to Kate for body warmth.

Kate playfully pushed him away, and yanked the blanket from his grasp. "Yes, I do! C'mon, tell me. What's your story?" Jack tried to retrieve his half of the blanket, but Kate kept it tightly wrapped around herself.

"Why're you so inquisitive tonight?" demanded Jack. "Fine! But give me back part of da blanket, for cryin' out loud!" he shouted. "It's freezin' up 'ere!"

Laughing, Kate spread the blanket over both of them again, and lazily put her head upon Jack's chest. He absentmindedly began to play with one of Kate's stray curls.

"Where d'ya want me ta start?" asked Jack.

"Well, how did you become a newsie here?"

Jack sighed heavily. He honestly didn't know where to begin. The ghosts of his past were not something Jack liked to talk about, nor burden anyone else with. Only a few of his closest friends knew an ounce of his true background; Race knew the most.

Maybe that was his problem: his reluctance to share with anyone the details of his past. He could whip up a lie faster than Race could place a bet, and lying had worked well for him. It was only until a few years after he moved into the Lodging House that his lips spoke more truth that outright lies.

How long had it been since the day he ran into Kate on the streets? Five weeks? Six weeks? It was only about a month ago, and he already knew her entire life story. Why was it so hard for him to share the things with her that she had already shared with him?

"Jack, if you don't want to, you can just tell me. I'll understand."

Jack snapped out of his trance, unaware that he had become so silent.

"No, no. It's just dat...I never really used ta like talkin' 'bout my past. Just seemed easier dat way, ta try and forget, ya know?"

"I think I can understand," replied Kate. Try and forget. That was something Kate attempted to do every day.

"But how can ya forget da past if you refuse to realize dat it happened?" Jack said. He stared vacantly towards the stars, with a glazed over look in his eyes like he was desperately trying to recall a certain memory, as Kate watched on in silence.

"I've lived 'ere my whole life. It seems like longer," he joked. "My mother worked 'ere as a seamstress over by Ellis Island. She was the most beautiful lady in all o' New York, ya know. She would get business from all da immigrants filing in daily, who needed clothin' mended and such. I guess ya could say she took a likin' ta a certain Irish man who came fresh off the boat and into her shop."

Jack paused to pull the blanket tighter around himself and Kate. "A seamstress an' a stoker, Lily an' Aidan. My mother told me dat when he stepped off da boat, she was instantly attracted to his eyes...said dey look so full of hope. Dey got married 'bout a month later, and packed up their stuff an' moved over ta Harlem. My mother thought she was so in love dat she didn't mind gettin' married so quickly. She didn't even understand what she was gettin' herself into."

"My mother didn't realize dat my father was Irish for a reason: his temper and his alcohol. She didn't even see dat at first. 'Course, she was too busy worrying about me. See, I arrived 'bout eight months after they got themselves married. A surprise to them both, really. My mother was thrilled, but my father was anoddah story. He began ta resent my mother for havin' me. Said she tricked him inta a marriage just so she could have a child. Dat's when everythin' changed." Kate carefully watched Jack's eyes. She could see where his mother saw the hope in his father's eyes. Jack shared that same trait.

"Were you very close to your mother?" asked Kate delicately.

Jack sighed deeply, sending circles of fog into the night sky. "Yes," he replied. "I don't remember much of my childhood, but da memories dat I hang onto involve 'er. As I began ta grow up, my father began ta distance himself more and more from us. He'd stay out late, going ta who knows where. Sometimes he'd come back so drunk dat he didn't know where 'e was, constantly cursin' at my mother...sayin' dat she didn't love him...dat it was 'er fault he turned out dat way." Jack's voice had become inflected with a certain malice, and Kate noticed this. She gently rubbed his arm as he continued.

"My mother, though," chuckled Jack. "My mother always stayed up for 'im. Ta make sure he came back all right. I couldn't figure out why she did dat for da longest time. I think I'm beginnin' ta understand now."

"She must have really loved him," whispered Kate. Jack nodded.

"She did," he replied. "So much dat she would still wait up for him ever after the beatings began. She nevah knew that I'd sneak outta my room at night and just watch her from my door. She'd just sit at da table, drinkin' a cup of tea, waitin' for him ta return. Sometimes she'd cry, and it scared me, but it wasn't as bad when she'd just sit dere in silence."

"In da day, though, she'd always find something for me ta do. She'd take me places all over da city, while my father went to the docks. Sometimes I'd go wit' her ta where she worked. She'd buy me somethin' ta read or ta play wit', and I'd sit and watch her work. Said I helped calm 'er nerves. Sometimes I'd read about a place in a book, and she'd go on 'bout how nice it probably was dere. She told me someday we'd visit all da places I'd read 'bout, just me an' her." Jack suddenly reached into his back pocket and produced a worn, yet readable, pamphlet.

"Dis here was gonna be our first stop." Kate read the title of the pamphlet. 'Cowboy Jack's Adventures in Santa Fe.'

"Santa Fe," said Jack, reminiscently. Kate gently took the pamphlet from Jack and flipped through a few of its pages. She stopped abruptly when she came to a certain page.

"Jack, this says the main character's name is Jack Kelly. Is that how you got your name?" she asked.

"My father's last name was Sullivan. He wanted ta name me Francis, after 'is father."

"So, that's why your real name is Francis Sullivan." Jack nodded solemly. "Just don't let dat get around, okay? I got a reputation ta keep up," he joked.

"Jack," began Kate. "What...happened? To your parents?"

Jack's eyes glazed over again, his mind desperately trying to remember. "One night when my mother was waitin' up for my father, I couldn't sleep, so I stole out into da livin' room, and began ta read about Santa Fe. My mother t'ought I was sleepin', as usual. She 'ad just made herself her cup of tea, when the door flew open, an' in walked my father, drunk as usual. I heard dem talkin', an' my mother was real mad. I crept into da kitchen's doorway ta see what was goin' on. I heard her tell 'im dat she was sick of livin' like dis, and dat she was gonna leave 'im." Jack paused.

"Then, he went off 'bout how 'e lost his job dat day, and how it was all of my mother's fault. How she was the worst wife, and that her real place was out on the street corner. I heard someone being slapped, and I cracked da door open so I'se could see. He grabbed her by the arm and shoved her against da stove, forcin' his mouth upon 'ers. She tried ta get away from 'im, but he was too strong. Somehow, her hand found a way to an empty beer bottle, and she cracked it over da top of 'is head. She ran through the door, almost knockin' me over, but she grabbed me and said 'Run, Francis. Ya gotta get outta here, now!' I couldn't do anythin' but just stand dere in shock." Kate sat speechless as Jack tightened his grip on her hand.

"The kitchen door suddenly flew open, and my mother pushed me into my room and slammed da door. My father started yellin', an' I could hear things gettin' tossed around da room, so I peaked through the keyhole...an' I saw..." Jack's voice trailed off, and Kate's eyes monitored his for any signs of emotion. "Then...nothing. Complete silence. It was like nothin' had happened. I sat dere by my door for da longest time, waitin' for somethin' ta happen, until I finally opened it and walked out to da livin' room...an' I found my father, passed out on the couch, an' my mother...dead."

Kate wasn't sure if Jack's story had left her speechless, or the fact that his face was totally devoid of all emotion. Not a single tear had made its way down his cheek.

"Oh, Jack..." Kate began, yet she found that she couldn't finish her sentence. After a moment of silence, Kate finally found her voice and said "How old were you?"

"Seven. I was seven years old," he replied. "Da very next morning, my father woke me up an' dragged me outta my bed, tellin' me ta pack only what I needed. I don't really remember it dat well...just dat we left our house an' headed off ta Brooklyn. I don't even know why he took me. Da way he treated me seemed like he would have rather left me back at our apartment."

"His drinkin' continued...it worsened, really. If it wasn't for da fact dat I can make friends quickly, I dunno how I would have survived all those years wit' him."

"Did he...did he-

"Beat me?" interjected Jack. He nodded gravely. Kate felt her stomach knot, angry at the fact that Jack had lived though such an ugly childhood and regretful of the fact that she had lived through the same thing. Yet, it scared Kate to think that Jack was totally expressionless when he spoke of such horrors. His father, his mother's death. Why was he so unwilling to share his feelings?

Suddenly, Jack stood up and crossed to the edge of the roof, leaving Kate alone with the blanket. She gathered it up around her shoulders and slowly began to walk toward Jack.

"Why do you hide it, Jack? Why do you hide your pain from everyone?"

"What are you talkin' about?" he asked. "I just shared almost my entire past wit' you, and demand more?" he shot out rather harshly.

"A good friend once told me that you didn't have to be strong all the time, remember? I'm not demanding any more from you, Jack. Just please, don't shut me out from your feelings." She hesitantly reached up to Jack from behind and placed her hands on his shoulders, laying her head near his neck.

"I'm not shutting you out," Jack said slowly. "Livin' on dat streets...with only yourself to depend on...it changes you. It's da first rule of the streets: never show what you're really feelin'. Everyone here knows that. You learned it too." he said, turning to face Kate.

Kate stared back at him, still unable to fathom how he spoke so calmly of his past. Looking into her eyes, Jack understood why she worried so. Any of the other guys, even Race, would have been shedding a few tears by now. She nodded. "I just don't like seeing your eyes so cold, so distant." Tenderly, she raised her hand to Jack's face and stroked his cheek. Jack bowed his head and moved in closer, meeting his lips with hers. If there was one thing about kissing Kate, it was that everything in the world seemed to fade away when they kissed.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too," she whispered back, carefully draping the blanket along both of their shoulders. "Do you want to go inside now?" she asked.

"Why, are you tired?" inquired Jack.

Kate shrugged. "Not especially. I'm still nervous about tomorrow. I just didn't think you'd want to stay up here any longer after all you've told me." She immediately looked towards the ground, attempting to avoid any eye contact. Jack instantly felt guilty for acting the way he had. She was just worried about him, that's all. And he had behaved so unfeeling towards her.

His mouth parted into a slight smile. "Why would we go inside? didn't even tell you 'bout how I became leader 'ere!"

Kate's eyes shot up, and she laughed. "All right, Jack," she said, leading him back to where they had been sitting. "Go on."


	17. Not A Doubt In His Mind

**Chapter Seventeen: Not A Doubt In His Mind**

"Up and at 'em! Sell the papes!"

Jack groaned as he rolled over in his bed to find the sunlight streaming in through the windows. A harsh knock resounded on the door, as Kloppman poked his head in the room.

"C'mon, Cowboy...you too Kate! Carryin' the banner!"

"All right, all right, old man, I'm up!" mumbled Jack, slowly leaning over his bunk to find Kate still fast asleep.

Jack swiftly climbed down from his bunk and knelt next to Kate's bed. Jack knew that as soon as he woke her up, she'd suddenly start worrying about the show at Medda's that night. He hadn't been able to calm her nerves last night, as she had done with his. In two hours, he had divulged everything that he had sworn to keep secret. Anything he had disclosed was usually only vaguely told through lies. To be honest, Jack had never really given a second thought about his true feelings of his past. It was so much easier to forget.

Life on the streets was a lot easier without emotion, a rule Jack learned almost too well. When it came to his boys, Manhattan, or Kate, Jack was full of conviction, but he hadn't realized until last night that he suddenly became unfeeling when it came to his past. Maybe it was because ignorance was the only way to make his past disappear, something he desperately wanted to do. He wanted to erase everything from his mind that reminded him of his father, of his temper, and of the alcohol...but not the memories of his mother. He desperately missed her presence in his life, a fact he kept close to his heart. Until last night, he had forgotten how much of a void her death had left in his life. Ever since that one night when his mother stayed up for his father for the very last time, he had tried to block out any recollections of her, building walls around his heart.

Kate understood too well his plight, which was possibly why she was so eager to help him...help him...she already had more than she would ever know. He had finally found someone that had everything he was looking for in a girl...an equal...someone that could rival him in confidence and match him in talent. Kate wasn't like any of the other girls Jack had seen enter and leave the Lodging House on the arms of various newsboys. Her assurance and poise exceeded them all, totally dependant upon herself rather than the constant praises and compliments the usual girls demanded from their newsies. Maybe that was why he was initially attracted to her. She didn't need to fawn over someone's feet to captivate their attention: her personality and compassion did that for her. Not to mention that her beauty was second to none. But what made her even more beautiful was that she didn't think she was.

With a sigh, Jack shook off all doubts Spot had instilled in his mind about Kate's possible alliance with Harlem. It was childish to even entertain those thoughts. There was no way that she was the spy Spot spoke so coldly of.

"Kate..." whispered Jack, as he gently nudged her. "Kate?"

She began to stir as Jack brushed aside strands of her hair that laid across her face. "What...? I'm up, I'm up," she replied groggily, instantly turning over, away from Jack's amused smile.

"Ya gotta get up, hon," he said, delicately rubbing her back. "We're runnin' late as it is."

"I don't wanna..." she said, snuggling deeper into her pillow.

Content with letting her have a few more minutes to sleep in, Jack crawled in bed beside her and pulled her into his chest.

"You have ta get up now, Kate," he said.

"Why?" she replied, awakening to the warmth of Jack's face.

"Isn't dere some show goin' on tonight at dat theater over by da distribution office?" he asked, grinning.

Instantly sitting up, almost knocking her head on the bottom of Jack's bunk, Kate exclaimed "The show! It's tonight! Oh god, I'm not ready, Jack. I can't do this. I'm bound to forget the words, the dances...and not to mention stage fright! Do you know how nervous I get when-

Kate's ranting was effectively silenced when Jack placed his lips on top of hers.

"Ya know, you're more attractive when ya don't talk," quipped Jack, as he broke away from his short kiss. Kate playfully pushed him away.

"Maybe I just won't talk to you anymore then!" retorted Kate, shooing Jack out of the bedroom. "Now let me change!"

Jack gripped the doorframe, preventing Kate from sending him into the bunkroom. "C'mon," he started, a sly smile creeping across his face. "Can't I watch?"

"Out!" shouted Kate, as she slammed the door in Jack's smug-looking face.

"She's a little nervous there, Jack?" asked Blink, passing on his way to the washroom.

Jack sighed. "You have no idea."

"Leak in Police Department Causes Uproar!"

"Now, that's a clever one!" commented Kate, as she casually browsed through the morning paper while Jack attempted to hawk the rest of his lingering papers on the street corner. "However, I don't think that a faulty sink in the smallest police station in New York is going to cause an uproar!"

"Well, it worked, didn't it?" asked Jack, strolling over to sit next to Kate on a wooden, red bench.

"Worked? What do you mean?" inquired Kate, slowly setting down her paper.

"For 'bout two minutes, ya didn't mutter a word 'bout da show tonight," said Jack, nonchalantly sliding his arm around her shoulders. Kate sighed and furrowed her brow at Jack. He was right. The entire morning of paper selling had been filled with Kate's comments of the show. Of course, she hadn't muttered a word about what her required tasks were. Jack knew everything about the show, inside and out, excluding Kate's role in the performance. Bad luck to tell anyone, in her opinion.

"C'mon, at least tell me what kinda get-up Medda's got ya in...or are ya goin' on stage just as you are?" asked Jack, playfully tugging at Kate's plain tan skirt. Not that Jack would have minded that. In all of his years as leader, he had seen many outfits donned by the girls that passed through the Manhattan Lodging House. Most dressed similar to Kate, while the others tried desperately to show off anything and everything. The worst articles of clothing could be found on the infamous Rubies of the Gutter, Manhattan's "girls of the night." He much preferred Kate's simple, conservative skirt and blouse to their tight, form-fitting dresses, created for one reason and one reason only: to make their owner more "sellable." Kate's blouse and skirt, although simple and plain, exhibited an air of purity.

"For the last time, Jack, I'm not tellin' you any-

Suddenly, a huge, resounding clock tower let off a booming toll: twelve o'clock.

Kate hastily gathered up her remaining papers and thrust them into Jack's hands. "Jack, I gotta go!"

"Already? Medda's got all da chorus girls rehearsin' already?"

Kate blushed and helped Jack stack up his remaining papers. "I guess you could say that," she replied. "Medda...wants us there...extra early," she stuttered. "I guess the next time I see you will be after the show...oh dear, here I go again, getting all nervous."

Jack placed his papers on the bench and took Kate's hands in his. "You're gonna be fine...no, better than fine. Great. An' I'll be dere right in da front row cheerin' ya on." Jack pulled her in for a quick hug and kiss. "Just no blowing kisses ta any of the guys, like Medda does, all right?"

Kate smirked and broke away from his embrace, beginning to make the walk to Medda's.

"All right?" Jack called after her.

Kate spun around, laughing. "It's only acting, Jack! Besides, do you trust me?" she called.

"What?" replied Jack, beginning to lose her through the mid-day crowd rush.

"Do you trust me?" Kate shouted, nearly knocking into three businessmen behind her.

"Always," shouted Jack, as he lost sight of Kate amidst the mass confusion. Smiling to himself, he collected all of his remaining papers, slung them over his shoulder, and briskly made his way to Tibby's.

"Heya Jack! Back 'ere"

The bells above the door at Tibby's jingled lightly as Jack strolled in amidst the crowd of newsboys already gathered in the popular restaurant. He immediately caught sight of Blink, Race, Marcus, Davey, and Mush, all seated at a table toward the back of Tibby's. As he made his way towards them, he was surprised to find Spot Conlon seated among them as well.

"Well, what do we owe da honor of your visit, Spot?" asked Jack, as he customarily spit in his hand and extended it to Spot.

Spot returned the gesture and smirked at Jack's comment. He folded his arms across his chest and furrowed his brow. Spot looked anything but pleased.

"You know perfectly well why I'm here, Jacky-boy. We got details ta discuss 'bout tonight." There was one thing about Spot you could always count on, thought Jack. Whenever he was determined about something, he could always get straight down to business. There was a certain look he always gave off when it was time to stop making jokes and time to start getting serious. Now was one of those times.

Jack pulled up a seat at sat next to Race, who was uncharacteristically not playing with a deck of cards, but listening attentively.

"All right. Everything's set up for tonight. I talked ta Orion yesterday down by the bridge. He's sendin' Cirrus and Match. Says he insists on sendin' two cause of da recent attacks on your boys, Spot."

Spot's face kept a steady glare, and his eyes remained even with Jack's. The look in his eyes told Jack that he still was quite angry with the assaults that had been occuring for about three weeks now. The talk about town was centered around who the mysterious group of attackers were. All three burroughs...Manhattan, Brooklyn and the Bronx...all suspected it to be Harlem, yet nothing had been set in motion to remedy the problem. Jack, like Orion, the Bronx's leader, wanted to avoid a burrough war at all costs, but Spot was not so easily disuaded.

"What about you, Spot? Who're you sendin'?"

Spot shifted his weight in his seat. "Well, unlike da Bronx, we don't need ta send two men," he started, slowly pronouncing each word to emphasize Brooklyn's strength. "But, Bolero promised Shorty he'd bring 'im along, so we're sendin' two." He unfolded his arms, dropping his tough demeanor for a brief moment. "So, Jack, who're you sendin'?"

"Race here's goin'," said Jack, as he nodded in his direction. "That's it though."

"Actually, Jack, Marcus here said he wanted ta tag along, if dat's all right," said Race.

"I can fight!" exclaimed Marcus, instantly trying to defend his honor. Spot let out a small laugh, then instantly resumed his solemn facade.

Jack looked on in amusement. "All right, all right, squirt. You can go. Ya gotta listen to everythin' Race tells ya, okay?" Marcus nodded and glanced in Spot's direction. Instead of wavering, as most newsies did, Marcus stared right back into Spot's cold gaze. If anyone had walked in on their conversation at the moment, they would have thought Spot and Marcus were holding a staring contest. Spot rolled his eyes, instantly breaking their staring match.

"So, it's set then. Tonight at Hailey Field. Third base line. Nine o'clock," announced Jack. He reclined in his chair and crossed his arms behind his head. "All right, boys. Who's comin' ta Medda's tonight?"

"Jack, you know we all are," replied Blink. "All of us 'cept for Race and Marcus, at least. You've only asked us dat question every day for a week. 'Sides, we wanna see Kate. Heard she's got more talent than Jack Kelly." All of the others laughed, except for Spot, who pushed in his chair and began to leave. It was almost time to begin selling papers again. Most of the boys in the restaurant had already left to get an early start.

"What about you, Spot? Ya comin' tonight or what?" shot out Jack, as he also stood up and began to leave the restaurant. Spot gripped his cane and turned to face Jack.

"Yeah, I'm comin' Jack. Not for the entertainment, though," remarked Spot. Jack's face suddenly fell serious. Watching his friends leave, he pulled Spot aside to the corner of the restaurant.

"She's not who you think she is, Spot," he said, in a hushed, yet determined whisper. "You're wrong about 'er."

Spot crossed his arms in front of his chest and scowled at Jack. "We'll see," he said, taking his cane out of his buckle loop. "See ya tonight," he muttered as he sauntered out of the restaurant into the chilly December air.

Jack watched him go and grabbed his remaining papers from the table. "Tonight," he whispered.


	18. Showtime

**Chapter Eighteen: Showtime**

"All right! Everyone! Let's go! Move it, move it! We don't wanna be late!"

Jack's deep voice resounded throughout the entire lodging house as he paced back in and forth in the lobby, much to Kloppman's delight.

"Cowboy, what did I tell ya 'bout wearin' out my floor boards?" laughed Kloppman, at an all too familiar scene.

Jack stopped dead in his tracks when he realized what exactly his feet were doing. He laughed at himself and shrugged. "You'd think I was da one performin' or somethin'," he joked.

Kloppman grinned. "Don't worry, son. She'll be fine."

Jack briskly ruffled his sandy brown hair and began his furious pacing again. "What's da hold up, fellas?" he shouted, nearly into the faces of Blink and Mush.

"All right, all right, we're comin', Jack!" shot Blink. "Da show doesn't start for another hour!"

"Yeah, 'sides Jack!" began Mush. "Most of da guys are already over dere. 'Course, you knew dat, right, oh fearless leader?"

Normally, Jack would have taken a swing at Mush for his last comment, but he was too preoccupied with making sure that everyone in the entire lodging house was on their way to Medda's. It wasn't that Jack had to do much work, though. In the few months Kate had spent at the Manhattan Lodging House, she had been first welcomed as a runaway, as many of the newsies had once been, then established as the latest newsie to join the lodging house, then finally accepted as "one of the guys," in a manner of speaking. Every newsie in the lodging house would have gone to Kate's show regardless of whether or not Jack insisted on it. And insisting he was.

"I just wanna make sure dat no one-

Blink cut in before Jack could finish his sentence. "Jack, you realize dat if Kate was here, she'd either be pullin' her hair out or sluggin' you by now, 'cause you'd be makin' 'er nervous!"

"Heck, you're makin' me nervous!" retorted Kloppman. "Now, go on boys. What are you doin' hangin' around with some old man on a Saturday night?"

Blink and Mush laughed. "All right, Kloppy, we're leavin'," replied Mush, as he and Blink stumbled out the door. Before Jack followed them out, Kloppman set down his paper that was in his lap, and beckoned Jack back inside.

"Hey, hey. Cowboy? Hold up a sec. C'mere."

Jack walked over to the main desk, as Kloppman began fumbling around in a lower drawer.

"What is it Kloppman? I really wanna get over dere-

Kloppman waved his hand at Jack for him to be silent. "Ehh, don't be in such of a rush. How can ya go when you've forgotten something?"

Jack looked up and down at his clothing, noting the red bandanna and cowboy hat around his neck. "What am I forgettin'?" he asked.

Kloppman lifted his hand from behind the counter and produced a single red rose in his hand, with a delicate white ribbon tied around the stem.

"For good luck," said Kloppman, carefully handing the rose over to Jack. Jack smiled warmly at the old caretaker, genuinely thanking him for his considerateness and sensitivity, a quality unknown to many of the newsies.

"Thanks, Kloppman. She'll really appreciate this-

"Agh, get outta here, Cowboy! You're gonna be late for the show!" chided Kloppman, slowly breaking into a laugh and instantly ending his sensitive facade. Jack glanced at the clock near the door. 7:15. Forty-five minutes till showtime...

"45 minutes 'til showtime! Curtain's closin'! The house is opening!"

Ben Hardaway's small, yet insistant voice rang through Irving Hall, alerting all who were currently located on the stage level of the time remaining before curtain. The house was filled with commotion: the stage crew was making last minute set checks, the orchestra was tuning up, the bartender was setting out his glass, and, of course, the performers were down below in their dressing rooms applying makeup and readying their costumes...all, except for Kate.

For the past half hour, she had been aimlessly wandering about the stage, watching all of the stage hands work, listening to the sounds of the violinists, and taking in the entire stage atmosphere. This small tradition of hers had not taken place ever since her father died. As she sat down near the edge of the stage, fixing her character shoes which Medda had so graciously given to her, she gazed around the performance hall, reveling in the fact that she was back in the theatre once again.

To be honest, there wasn't a bit of nervousness left in her body. All of that had left her body the moment she had stepped onto the stage. It was replaced with excitement and anticipation of the waiting crowds and the dimming of the house lights. She laughed wondering exactly just what the boys had bet on her costume. At the moment, she wore a simple white shirt and a matching petticoat, soon to be hidden away by the luxurious costumes the chorus girls were assigned to wear. As she began to muse on the size of the audience that evening, a voice from behind broke her from her reverie.

"Hey, Kate? Gordon just told me ta get you downstairs. The house is openin', an' all," he said, in an authoritative manner. Kate laughed at the young stage hand she had come to know in the past few weeks. He took his job so seriously, yearning to become better, even at the age of thirteen. Kate admired his tenacity, partially because he reminded her of herself. He extended his hand to help her up.

"Thanks, Ben. Why're they opening the house so soon?" she inquired.

Ben removed his dusty brown cap from his head and hastily ran a hand through his hair. "Medda said somethin' about having a larger audience tonight," he replied.

Kate's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Larger? I don't see what's so special about tonight. How much larger?"

"Well, Gordon told me to lay out some extra chairs...they expect it to be standing room only." With that, he replaced his cap back on his head, and ran off stage right.

_Standing room only_..? thought Kate, as she made her way downstairs to her dressing room.

Perhaps her nervousness was not completely gone after all.

A rich crimson curtain slowly began to close off the stage area as two sets of heavy wooden doors opened in the rear of the hall, allowing the shouts of the theatre-goers who had gathered in the lobby to filter into the house. With a little over a half an hour until showtime, it was surprising to see the number of patrons that had been waiting outside for the doors to open. The majority of the "patrons" that had assembled, of course, were none other than the newsies of New York City.

"Would'ya quit pushin' me, Blink? I can move on my own, thank you very much!" snapped a rather irritated Mush as he was attempting to make his way into the theatre.

"It's not my fault, Mush!" shouted Blink, amidst the tumultuous roar that had developed in the lobby. "There's too many people here!" he explained, as he tried to avoid the rush of the crowd.

Blink was right. Medda's was swarming with people, highly rare on a cold night as it was. As soon as Jack stepped through the doors into the theatre, however, he was grateful for the numbers, which meant the theatre would be overflowing with heat and warmth.

A quick scan of the rapidly filling theatre notified Jack that nearly every borough in New York City had some sort of representation present. A few Staten Island boys were lingering about the bar area, yelling out their orders to the barkeeper who was furiously trying to keep up. Near the orchestra pit, various boys from Queens had gathered, trying to peer underneath the curtain. As Jack's eyes flickered over to the box seats, the harsh click of metal hitting the floor sounded from behind him.

"Pretty full tonight, Jack. Wouldn't wanna miss gettin' a seat right up front, I'm sure."

Jack whirled around face to face with Spot and a small faction of his newsies.

"I was just on my way, actually, ta my usual table. So I'se can get a good look at all of da pretty faces on stage. I never forget a face, ya know, Jack."

When Spot was adamant about something, he not only became very stubborn but also increasingly sarcastic. Jack had learned over the years in his friendship with Spot that this was an early warning sign not to push him too far.

Jack shrugged. "And I never forget someone who doesn't trust me, Spot. And when you don't trust one of my boys, for no good reason, I get offended. Kate's not one of my boys, but da same goes for 'er."

For a moment, the eyes of a strike leader glared straight into the eyes of Brooklyn itself, each waiting for the other to falter. The tension momentarily subsided as the shattering of a glass from the bar area snapped Jack and Spot out of their face-off.

Jack regained his composure and began to make his way towards a table near the front of the theatre. "Sit back an' enjoy da show, Spot. S'pose ta be a good one tonight."

Spot glowered at Jack as his made his way to his seat. Spot in no way hated Jack or any of the Manhattan newsies; on the contrary, Manhattan and Brooklyn shared the closest bond between all of the boroughs. But when something triggered so strong a doubt in Spot's mind, bond or no bond, he would judge and trust whom he wanted to trust, regardless of any alliances. His eyes followed Jack and the rest of his newsies to their tables in the second row. Brandishing his cane, he led the rest of his boys to three sets of tables on the opposite side of the theatre.

Pullling out a chair at the head of the table, Jack carefully placed the rose he received from Kloppman near the middle of the table and casually leaned back in his chair.

"Good turn out tonight," mused Blink. "Dere's people here I haven't seen in ages."

"You're right, Blink," said Mush. "Check it out...over dere near the last row of tables...isn't dat Spades?"

Blink turned in his seat. Sure enough, Spades Kearney, the most talented card player in all of the boroughs, sat at a smaller table with a few other boys from Harlem.

"Jack...check it out. Spades, with a few friends from Harlem," whispered Blink.

"What's Spades doin' around dis theatre?" questioned Jack. "He hasn't been here in months."

"You think we should inform Spot dat a few of Harlem's street rats are 'ere?" asked Mush. "Ya know, take 'em outside an-

"No," shot Jack. "Spades is all right. We don't wanna risk somethin' 'ere in the open." In the history of the conflicts between Manhattan, Brooklen and the Bronx, and Harlem, Spades had never succumbed to his leader's wishes and fought against the other three boroughs. Both Jack and Spot held a fragile relationship with Spades, simply because of where he lived and who he hung out with. While an appearance by Spades at Medda's wouldn't start any wars, the boys that accompanied him at his table certainly could.

"What the heck's Harlem doin' 'round here, Jack?" asked Boots, who was sitting near the end of the table, flanked by Snipeshooter, Dutchy and Davey.

Jack's gaze never left Harlem's table. "I dunno, Boots. I really don't know. Keep your eyes on 'em. There's gotta be a reason why dere 'ere."

"You sure we shouldn't tell Spot?" asked Dutchy.

Jack opened his mouth to reply to Dutchy, but at that moment, the house lights began to fade in and out, signaling the start of the show. As the lights dimmed for the last time, the theatre faded into darkness, and a small beam of light protruded from underneath the stage curtain. A loud drumroll filled the air, and the orchestra began playing a lively, up-tempo number. A dim spotlight appeared against the red curtain, as it slowly opened slightly to admit Medda, dressed elaborately in a beautiful blue gown, in front of the curtain. As she faced the audience, the spotlight focused in on her and she began to sing:

_"Willkommen, bienvenue, welcome! _  
_Fremde, etranger, stranger. _  
_Gluklich zu sehen, je suis enchante,_  
_Happy to see you, bliebe, reste, stay. _  
_Willkommen, bienvenue, welcome _  
_Im Cabaret, au Cabaret, to Cabaret!"_

Medda advanced towards the edge of the stage and gave a brilliant smile to her audience.

"Meine Damen und Herren, Mesdames et Messieurs, Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome to the show! And of course, my Newsies...what's new?"

Medda's infamous line received a roar of cheers and applause, while the orchestra kept a steady beat underneath all of the commotion.

"Welcome back to another night of singing..."

A roar erupted from the audience.

"...a night of dancing..."

The audience cheered again, as Jack glanced nervously toward Harlem's table.

"...and a night of surprises! So sit back, and forget your fears and worries. Now, without further ado, let me take you back to...the Cabaret!"

With a flourish of her arms, she elegantly turned around as the curtain parted behind her, revealing ten chorus girls lining the stage. Each were fashioned in a similar can-can style dress, extravagently done up with sequins all the way to the floor. Every individual girl wore a different color, displaying an array of greens, blues, purples, and reds. They each had their backs to the audience, but slowly turned around and began to dance.

"Hey Jack!" whispered Blink. "Which one's Kate?"

Jack's eyes darted quickly over each dancer, looking for her characteristic brown curly hair. He quickly realized that it was hard to discern who was who because each girl had their hair pulled back away from their face. The dance section began to pick up in tempo, as each girl was featured in a small solo dance. One by one, they made their way to the center of the stage, reveling in the small spotlight. Five or six girls passed by, and still Jack could not recognize one as Kate. After the ninth dancer finished, a girl in red turned around and made her way into the spotlight.

"That's Kate!" Jack exclaimed.

"How d'ya know Jack?" asked Blink.

Jack laughed to himself. "Cause," he began. "Who else would have that smirk on their face?"

Blink looked to the dancer in red, and sure enough, there was the same confident smirk that frequently adorned Kate's face. As she finished, she made her way back into the line of girls behind Medda, and they all joined in with her as she sang the last refrain of her song.

_"Willkommen, bienvenue, welcome _  
_Im Cabaret, au Cabaret, to Cabaret!"_

A loud burst of applause erupted from the crowd as the chorus girls made their way off stage right, leaving Medda alone in her spotlight as the orchestra began the next song.

"She's good, Jack!" whispered Mush. "Real good!"

Jack confidently crossed his arms over his chest. "Yeah," he replied. "I know." He glanced over towards Brooklyn's table to see what the consensus was there, yet all had their eyes glued on Medda, who was singing a sweet ballad about love and loss. Jack's eyes flicked over to Spade's table, and found him deep in conversation with two of his boys.

"Jack, just let it go for now," whispered Boots, who had noticed Jack's attention was focused on Harlem. "Like ya said, we don't wanna risk startin' anything now. Just watch da show."

Jack nodded, refocusing his attention to the stage. Medda sang a few more songs, occasionally being joined by the chorus girls onstage. In each number that Kate was in, Jack couldn't remove his eyes from her. There was no question about it: she was an excellent performer. Although only cast in the role of a chorus girl, every second she was onstage, you couldn't help but to look in her direction. She held a special sort of charisma onstage, like nothing could touch her or hurt her while she was singing. Jack had known before even seeing her onstage that she was probably very talented, but he had never fathomed that she was this good. She was beautiful, confident, talented, intelligent...and somehow she had become his girlfriend. As he sat back in his chair watching her perform onstage, he felt something he hadn't felt in a long time: pride.

Medda was wrapping up another one of her songs, as Jack glanced over to the far wall, where an old wooden clock was placed: 9:30. The meeting with Brooklyn and the Bronx was already in session, and would probably be over any tim-

"Ladies and gentlemen!" broke in Medda, severing Jack from his thoughts. "You have been a terrific audience tonight!"

Once again, the entire crowd broke into applause. "But, all good things must come to an end," she continued, as all of the chorus girls filtered onto the stage behind her. "So! Without further adieu, here is the last number for this evening! Thank you all!"

Medda quickly made her way offstage, as the chorus girls placed themselves to their individual marks onstage.

"Ya think she'll change for the last number into dat dress with da lace that we like so much, Jack?" quipped Mush.

"Nah, look," pointed Jack. "She's already back onstage."

All of the boys turned their attention back to the stage, to find Medda facing the back of the stage atop a set of stairs, with all of the chorus girls in a diagonal around her. The orchestra began to play a sultry introduction and Medda began to sing the first few notes, still facing the back of the stage.

_"There was a time, I don't know when_  
_I didn't have much time for men_  
_But this is now, and that was then_  
_I'm learning..."_

Blink turned to Jack with a rather puzzled look on his face. "Dis a new song or somethin'? I don't recognize it at all."

"Must be," replied Jack, also intrigued with Medda's newest addition to the show. As the dancers shifted their positions, Medda continued with her song, slowly turning around in the shadows to face the audience.

_"A girl alone, all on her own_  
_Must try to have a heart of stone_  
_So I try not to make it known_  
_my yearning..."_

Several cat calls and whistles erupted from the newsies, reveling in the implicit subject matter of the song.

"Yearnin'? Jack, what's she yearnin' for?" whispered Blink, who was immediately answered by Mush's hat in his face.

"Would ya shaddup? Medda's just getting to da good part!" shouted Mush.

_"I try to show I have no need_  
_I really do..._  
_I don't succeed..."_

Instantly, the spotlight snapped onto Medda, revealing a beautiful new dress, lavished with red silk trimmed with black lace.

"Woo hoo! Look at dat dress!" cheered Blink. "I didn't know Medda had a figure like dat!"

"Hey, Jack?" asked Mush. "Since when did Medda 'ave brown hair?"

"Are you stupid? She doesn't have red hair, ya moron," shot Blink, who turned his attention back to the stage, instantly discovering that Mush's question was valid. "Jack, why'd Medda dye her hair?" asked Blink.

Jack's eyes widened and he nearly fell out of his seat. "Dat's cause dat ain't Medda!" he shouted. "It's Kate!"

As the rest of the newsies at the Manhattan table realized that it was not Medda but Kate onstage, the music began to pick up in tempo as Kate descended the stairs.

_"So, let's bring on the men! _  
_And let the fun begin_  
_A little touch of sin_  
_Why wait another minute?_  
_Step this way, it's time for us to play_  
_They say we may not pass this way again_  
_So let's waste no more time_  
_Bring on the men!"_

Jack sat in awe as Kate made her way into the audience, entranced by her voice.

_"I always knew, I always said_  
_That silk an' lace, in black and red_  
_Would drive a man right off his head_  
_It's easy."_

Kate made her way over to Brooklyn's table, playfully flirting with some of the boys near the front.

_"So many men, so little time_  
_I want 'em all_  
_Is that a crime?"_

The entire faction of Brooklyn, excluding one bullheaded leader, enthusiastically shouted "No!", evoking a laugh from Kate.

_"I don't know why they say that I'm too easy!"_

Cautiously, and almost seductively, Kate approached the rear of the table, locking eyes directly with Spot. Neither flinched nor broke with the emotion on their faces. Jack, as well as the other newsies surrounding his table, subconsciously held their breath.

_"They make me laugh_  
_They make me cry_  
_They make me sick_  
_So God knows why..."_

Smirking, Kate winked and began to sing the refrain again, as the chorus girls joined her in the audience and sang along. Jack breathed a sigh of relief that all conflict with Spot was averted. Kate moved with ease from table to table, evoking smiles and laughter from each person she passed by.

_"They break your heart_  
_They steal your soul_  
_Take you apart_  
_But then they somehow make you whole_  
_So, what's their game?"_

Kate approached a table of a handful of very inebriated gentlemen, who leered at her with wandering hands, which she avoided. Jack nearly wanted to jump out of his seat, a wave of jealousy sweeping through him, but restrained himself as he saw Kate very slowly approach one of the men, taking the glass of beer away from his hand.

_"I suppose a rose by any other name_  
_The perfume and the prick's the same!"_

On the last word, Kate dumped the remains of the tankard onto the man's head, not eliciting a swell of anger, but a hearty laugh, whch was caused by his current state of drunkeness. His friends laughed right along with him, as did the entire theatre, as Kate made her way back onto the stage, eyes gleaming in the spotlight.

_"I like to have a man for breakfast each day_  
_I'm very social an' I like it that way_  
_By late mid-morning I need something to munch_  
_So I ask over two men for lunch!"_

Blink snickered. "Oh really, Jack? When's all dis happen?" He was promptly answered by Jack's hand to the back of his head as Kate continued to sing.

_"And men are mad about my afternoon teas_  
_They're quite informal, I just do it to please _  
_Those triple sandwiches are my favorite ones_  
_I'm also very partial to buns!"_

The crowd, enamoured with the song, hollared for more.

_"My healthy appetite gets strongest at night_  
_My at home dinners are my men friends' delight_  
_When I invite the fellers over to dine_  
_They all come early..._  
_In bed by nine!"_

Blink and Mush looked at each other simultaneously and chuckled, as Jack's face blushed to match the color of Kate's dress.

_"So, let's bring on the men!_  
_And let the fun begin_  
_A little touch of sin_  
_Why wait another minute?_  
_Step this way, it's time for us to play..."_

Kate took two strides near the edge of the stage, singing the last line with power and enthusiasm.

_"They say we may not pass this way again_  
_So, let's waste no more time_  
_Bring on the men!"_

The music swelled as Kate belted out the last note, and the audience erupted with applause, instantly rising to their feet. The chorus girls assembled behind her, as the entire company bowed. Medda quickly rushed onstage, joining hands with Kate, bowing twice more before the curtains rushed in from both sides, ending the show for the night.

"My dear, you were simply amazing!" exclaimed Medda, pulling Kate into a tight hug.

"Do you think he was surprised?" asked Kate. Medda laughed, remembering how Kate had purposely not told Jack of her solo piece.

"You should have seen the expression on his face," replied Medda, attempting to stifle a laugh. "He never saw it coming!"

Kate smiled, her heart still racing from the standing ovation. "I don't know how to thank you, Medda. I never imagined I would be bac-"

"Oh, darling, let's not get into that now!" Medda said, interrupting a very flustered Kate. "You've got to change! Get cleaned up! Meet your fans!"

Kate looked back at Medda with a puzzled expression on her face. "Fans? What are you talking about? I don't have f-"

Medda immediately whirled Kate around, to find Jack, Mush, Blink, and a few other Manhattan newsies standing over on stage right. Jack, with Kloppman's rose in his hand, grinned at her, as Medda silently backed away, attending to the other chorus girls.

"Excuse me, miss, but could ya tell me where I can find the singer of da last number?" asked Jack, with a mischievous grin on his face. "I know she's new in town, an' I'd like ta meet 'er, if dat's all right. Heard she's single, too."

Kate grinned. "Actually, she's currently dating a someone, I believe. Some newsie from from the Bronx or something."

Feigning an offended look, Jack began to walk away, but Kate grabbed his hand. As he turned back, he surprised her with a kiss.

"Here," he said, offering her the rose. She smiled, inhaling the sweet perfume of the flower.

"It's beautiful, Jack. Thank you."

"Well, I can't take all da credit for it. Kloppman kinda helped me out in a way," he said. "So, when were ya gonna tell me an' the boys about that little number of yours?"

"Come now, Jack. It's good to have a surprise now and then!" Kate said.

"Oh really?" asked Jack, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Then go get dressed and meet me back here in five minutes."

"Why's that?" she asked, playing with the white ribbon attached to the flower.

"Cause," he began, "it's good ta have a surprise now and then!" Kate shook her head and made her way offstage, as Jack walked back to Mush and Blink.

"Everything all ready?" he asked.

"We're all set," replied Blink.


	19. Surprises

**Chapter Nineteen: Surprises**

"Watch out! Traveler comin' down!"

A loud, booming voice ofone of Medda's stagehands permeated through the theater as the backstage crew finished clearing up for the night.As a few of the chorus girls left the theatre for the night, Medda exited from her onstage dressing room, carefully locking the door behind her. She waved her goodbyes to a few ensemble members and casually made her way onstage, where she found Jack sitting on the edge of the orchestra pit.

"How many times do I gotta tell ya, Kelly? You're gonna fall in if you sit that close!"

Jack turned at the sound of Medda's voice and smiled.

"Too many," he chided, as he stood up and approached Medda. "I'm not five years old anymore, Medda."

Trying to stifle a laugh, Medda lightly smacked Jack on the cheek. "It doesn't mean you can't get into as much trouble as you did back then."

Jack smirked. "You know me too well, Medda," he replied, sheepishly sticking his hands into his pockets.

"So, you waitin' for a certain someone, Kelly? Or are you finally going to treat me to a night on the town?"

"As temptin' as dat excursion sounds, I can't. You see-

Silently, Kate approached Jack and Medda from stage left, instantly grabbing Jack's attention.

"-my heart belongs t'another girl," finished Jack, as he caught sight Kate standing behind Medda. She was wearing a delicate blue dress and a matching shawl; both opening night presents from Medda.

"I hope that girl knows what she's getting herself into," Kate retorted, a sly grin appearing on her face. Jack shook his head.

"Ready?" he asked, as he extended his hand to her.

"You bet," she replied, as she took his arm. "Thank you again, Medda. This night was...incredible."

A knowing smile surfaced on the seasoned performer's face. "It was my pleasure to watch you work, my dear. Go now. Enjoy yourselves. I'll see you back here on Monday, all right?"

"Sounds great. See you then," replied Kate, as she permitted Jack to lead her offstage. Medda glanced at Jack, catching his eye before he reached the stage door.

"See ya around, Kelly," she called, as the stage door shut behind them. "Behave!"

A wintry wind began to pick up and whip through the streets of New York as Kate and Jack began their walk home. Christmas was nearly three weeks away, and yet not a single snowflake had touched any of the burroughs. The biting temperature of the air, however, was enough to remind anyone that it was likely to snow at any moment. Kate shivered as a sharp breeze sent goosebumps up and down her arms. Kindly, Jack removed his black jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. She graciously accepted, reveling in the added comfort.

"What? What are you staring at?"

Unknowingly staring at her face, Jack snapped out of his brief daydream.

"Nothin'. I still can't get over how good you were," he explained. Kate waved his comment aside.

"It wasn't that good of a performance," she said. "There were so many mistakes toni-

"No," said Jack, adamantly. "You were _good_. Really good, Kate. Like better den da people they got performin' professionally," said Jack. "How come ya never let on dat you were dis talented?"

Kate shrugged her shoulders, absentmindedly kicking a stray pebble on the sidewalk. "I don't know. I never really thought about it, I guess."

She looked wistfully at the ground. Truthfully, the only other person that had given her a compliment after a performance was her father. Once Archie claimed hold of the theatre, the quality of her performances were never talked about if Archie made a profit that night.

"Ya don't need to think about it," continued Jack. "You're as good as Medda, an'-no, wait...you're _better_ than Medda, an' she's been doin' it for a long time."

"All right, all right! Enough with the compliments, thank you!" said Kate, turning a slight shade of crimson.

"So!" she began, taking Jack's arm. "Who won the bet?"

Puzzled, Jack stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and looked questioningly at Kate. "Bet? What b-

A realization dawned on Jack as he quickly remembered the simple wager Race had designed regarding the color of Kate's dress. As soon as Jack realized who had won, a bittersweet grin arose to his face.

"Believe it or not, but I think Race actually called dat your dress would be red. He finally wins some money, an' he's not even here ta claim it."

"That's because he's at that meeting with the other two burroughs, right? The third base line of Hailey field? Nine o'clock?" asked Kate.

Jack nodded his head. "You sound as if you planned da meetin' yourself."

Kate shook her head. "Nah, I just have a good memory, that's all. You imagine they're done by now?"

"We sent Race and Marcus. Anyone foolish enough ta stick around after a meetin' with Race is beggin' to lose dere money," quipped Jack. "They're probably on their way home right now, so close your eyes."

Kate looked at Jack as if he had completely lost his mind. "What does Race and Marcus coming home have anything to do with me closing my eyes?"

Jack sighed. "Do you always have to ask questions? Just turn around an' close your eyes!" Jack placed his hand around her face, concealing her view, and began to lead her across the street.

"Jack, you better not be walking me into the river or anything," Kate protested, slapping Jack on the leg.

"Just keep walking foward," instructed Jack, as he ran ahead of her. "Follow da sound of my voice!" It took every bit of energy Jack had inside of him to not break down in laughter.

"I swear to God, if I open my eyes and you're nowhere in sight, I am going to murder you," Kate threatened, as an awkward silence met her with no response.

"Jack?" she called. No answer. "Jack?" Still not a word.

"All right, Jack! I mean it! If you don't answer me on the count of three, I'm going to open my eyes!"

"One!..."

"Two!..."

"SURPRISE!"

Kate nearly leapt out of her shoes as she whirled around to find herself standing in front of a plethora of newsboys, all lingering outside of Tibby's. At a first glance, she could see the familiar faces of Jack, Blink, Mush, and Crutchy; with further discernment, she distinguished a few faces she was unaccustomed with. Still attempting to bring her heart rate back down to a normal pace, she furiously attempted to figure out what was going on.

"Wh..what is all this?" she asked, to no one in particular.

"This...would be a party," responded Blink, as he nonchalantly strolled up to her.

"In your honor," finished Mush, who was followed by a very sheepish-looking Jack.

"B-but, how? Doesn't Tibby's close at ten?" asked Kate, who knew very well of the restaurant's operating hours.

Now it was Jack's turn to elaborate. "Well, technically, yes. But I have what you'd call 'friends in high places,' so tonight, it's up ta you to decide how late they're open."

Kate smirked at the trio standing before her. "You guys..." she began, laughing at herself and the situation in front of her. "What would I do without you?"

"Can't think of anything myself, really," answered Blink, as he began to head inside.

"Yeah, it's clear. You just can't leave Manhattan ever, Kate," said Mush.

Kate chuckled as she watched Blink and Mush join the rest of the newsies inside Tibby's. She turned to Jack, hands across her chest, in an authoritative manner.

"So this is your little surprise, huh?" asked Kate. Jack nodded his head as he tried to reach for Kate's hands. She, however, playfully slapped them aside.

"And don't you EVER scare me like that again, all right? I thought I felt my heart leap up into my throat! I've never turned around to find thirty-some boys staring right back at me!"

Jack, too, crossed his arms in front of his chest, purposely mocking Kate. 'Well, I can't say dat I'll never catch ya off guard again," he started. "Where would be da fun in that?"

A light patter of freezing rain suddenly began to fall about the street, as many of the newsboys ran inside the restaurant.

"Okay, Francis," murmured Kate. "But just remember: revenge is a dish best served cold! Now come on!" she continued, grabbing Jack's hand. "I don't want to miss the party!"


	20. Bitter Rain

**Chapter Twenty: Bitter Rain**

The air was abuzz with excitement as Jack and Kate strolled into Tibby's, receiving a few small cheers and shouts. Nearly every table was occupied, bringing the usually calm din of the restaurant to a loud, uproarious clamor. The bartender and busboys were doing their best to keep all of their very excitable clients appeased; the attempt, however, was proving futile as more and more customers kept arriving, seeking shelter from the bitter rain.

"Dere's our star!" shouted an excited Blink from the front of the restaurant. Kate instantly rolled her eyes and brushed away his comment.

"Please, Blink. I wasn't the only one in the show!" began Kate, as she took a seat next to Mush. "Besides, Medda sang nearly ten songs. Ten!"

"But it seemed like only _your_ song got Brooklyn a lil' uncomfortable," smirked Mush, emptying the rest of the contents of his glass into his mouth. Jack settled into a chair beside Kate.

"Brooklyn wasn't the only section who enjoyed that song, Mush," explained Kate.

Mush smirked. "I wasn't talkin' 'bout Brooklyn the burrough. I was talkin' 'bout Brooklyn, the _person_."

Boots set his glass down on the table and kicked his feet up comfortably on a nearby vacant seat. "Yeah, Conlon couldn't keep up his Poker face for that one."

"You know, what _is_ his problem?" asked Kate, to no one in particular. "He's given me the cold shoulder every single time I see him!"

"Which is odd, seein' as how Spot talks to anything with two legs and a skirt," joked Jack. "Hey Max," Jack shouted to a nearby waiter. "Ya seen Conlon around?"

The waiter to whom Jack was calling merely shrugged his shoulders. "Haven't seen 'im here tonight."

Jack smirked. "Ya scared 'im off, Kate. Probably too flustered ta show his face in here." Kate shook her head.

"Uh, speakin' of showin' faces, where are Race and Marcus? Shouldn't they be back by now?" asked Blink, in a hushed whisper directed to only his table.

Jack glanced over at the clock sitting behind the bar, realizing that it was now eleven o'clock: nearly two hours since the meeting had started. On foot, Brooklyn was only a thirty minute walk. Race and his young sidekick had left for the meeting at approximately quarter after eight, allowing time for the weather and any other delays. Burrough meetings usually lasted only an hour, depending on the subject matter discussed. Jack had guessed that the meeting would go quickly tonight, as Manhattan, Brooklyn, and the Bronx all agreed that some sort of action had to be taken against Harlem. The attacks were becoming too frequent, and growing more violent by the day. Still, nearly three hours after they had departed, Race and Marcus were nowhere to be seen.

"Have ya been payin' attention to da weather, Blink? It ain't exactly a warm spring evening outside," quipped Mush. "We'll be lucky if we're snow-free for another week."

"Yeah, maybe they stopped over in Brooklyn for da night," suggested Crutchy.

"Lucky for them," sarcastically began Kate, "that Brooklyn's leader is so hospitable and friendly." She rolled her eyes and smiled at Jack. "I'm thirsty. Want anything while I'm up? Jack! Are you there?"

Jack sharply jerked his hand as Kate snapped her fingers in front of it. "What's the matter? You dazed off on me."

"Nah, just wonderin' 'bout Race and Marcus. He knows not ta linger around Brooklyn after dark," replied Jack.

"I'm sure they're fine," said Kate. "Crutchy may be right, anyways. Take a look outside. It's getting pretty bad out."

A look outside into the streets of Manhattan would have shown a pretty intense rainstorm pelting the ground, while harsh gusts of wind left awnings and street signs violently blowing about.

"Yeah. Maybe you're right," sighed Jack.

"And don't you doubt that. Now, I'll ask you again: Do you want anything while I'm up?" Kate repeated, as Jack placed his arms around her waist, pulling her down onto his knees.

"Kiss me," Jack said, attempting to pull Kate's face towards his.

"Ack! No! Who'd want to kiss you?" shot Kate, as she tried to twist out of Jack's arms, but to no avail. After a few moments of trying to push a very persistant Jack away, Kate finally gave in and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

"There. Satisfied?" asked Kate, straightening Jack's grey shirt out as she stood.

"For now, at least," replied Jack, a mischievous grin appearing on his face. "There's always later."

"Don't get any ideas, Kelly," said Kate, who now had a slight blush creeping onto her cheeks. She turned and made her way over to the bar, where she immediately struck up a conversation with two of the newsies seated to the left of her. Jack turned his attention back to his table, where the topic of conversation had centered itself onto who would be on clean-up crew for the party. After five minutes of attempting to employ the services of three newsies, Crutchy finally had the brilliant idea of flipping a coin to determine who would be left behind to tend to the mess. As Mush reached into his pocket, searching for an extra penny, the front door to Tibby's swung violently open, revealing a very out of breath newsie, who nearly collapsed over a chair from exhaustion as he passed through the threshold.

"Jack! Jack! Where's Jack?"

The outburst near the front of the restaurant had quickly attained the attention of Jack, Blink, Mush, and the other newsies at their table, who all stood up and ushered their way to the source of the commotion. A crowd was quickly forming around the fatigued newsie, who had found a vacant seat and was currently catching his breath. Jack moved past the the rapidly forming audience and quickly responded to the newsie in question.

"All right, all right. What is going on…Dart? What are you doin' here?"

Jack looked around the group of faces, as if trying to find an explanation somewhere in the restaurant. Dart, Spot's speediest messenger and a good friend of Jack's, sat before him, completely winded and trying his best not to pass out.

"Dart? Dart's here?" asked a very befuddled Blink. "Hey Dart! Ya missed a great show! Boy, you shoulda seen—

Blink, enthusiastic to inform Dart of what he had missed at Medda's that night, was effectively silenced by a sharp elbow in his stomach from Mush. A few Brooklyn newsies, learning that the newcomer to the party was one of their own, stepped toward the front of the crowd, eager to learn why he so desperately needed to talk to Jack. Once he had managed to collect his thoughts, Dart's message came out faster than a bullet.

"Jack…da meetin'…at Hailey Field. Jesus, Jack. They didn't even see it comin'!"

"Woah, slow down, Dart!" shouted Jack. "What are you talkin' about?"

"Da burrough meetin', Jack. You know? The one scheduled for tonight at Hailey Field?" said Dart.

"What about it, Dart. Tell me! What happened at the meetin'?" demanded Jack.

Dart shook his head violently. "Okay, okay! Before Spot left tonight, he left Alarm in charge of da boys who had stayed behind tonight. Alarm knew full well that dere was a burrough meetin' tonight at Hailey Field, an' Spot told 'im that if there was one speck of trouble that he should send me runnin' ta get him."

"Go on," said Jack, his hands tightening to fists as he awaited the next piece of information.

"About ten o'clock, Cirrus an' Match from da Bronx come bustin' through our door, carryin' Racetrack on their shoulders, all bloodied up and knocked around real bad, Jack. I mean, _real_ bad. He had these huge gashes runnin' up the sides of his face, real bad shiner, an' probably a sprained ankle. Not ta mention da damage we _can't_ see."

"Holy shit," murmured Blink, unbelieving and astounded by the information Dart was revealing.

"Not only five seconds later comes Bolero carryin' this lifeless load in his arms. He turns an' screams for me ta get some water and rags, while Alarm comes runnin' downstairs. I'm just about ta head into the kitchen when I hear Alarm screamin' at the top of his lungs. I run back into the lobby an' I see Bolero gently laying down da load he was carryin': Shorty. He was the worst off of 'em all, Jack." Jack tensed visibly, furiously clutching the back of a nearby chair.

"He's not doin' too well. He ain't gonna die, but he's gonna be in a lotta pain for a few weeks. Same with Race."

Dart took an uneasy breath and began his story again. "As I'm fetchin' the things, I hear Bolero tellin' Alarm what happened. The newsies at da meetin' were just about ta call it a night when a dozen of Harlem's boys just appeared outta nowhere! It was like they knew exactly when we were all gonna meet an' where! Harlem jumped 'em, Jack! Right at da meetin'! Only a few of us know where exactly the meetin' is each week, but the boys from Harlem knew! They just knew!"

Dart inhaled a strong breath of air, attempting to not collapse in tears. He ran his head through his dark black hair, trying to remember every detail of the night. "After Alarm got everything somewhat under control, he comes ta me and tells me ta run to Manhattan, an' find Spot, no matter what it takes. I did as he said, but I couldn't find Spot anywhere. I looked everywhere, I really did, Jack. But, Spot always says that if we can't find 'im, that we should run ta you, so I did."

Dart nervously looked around. "Is Spot here?" he asked.

"No," quietly replied Jack, still dazed and shaken by the news that had just been delivered to him. The anger boiling inside of his heart over what Harlem had done to Race and Shorty nearly made him want to punch everyone around him. Many of the newsies that had witnessed Dart narrate the events of the night had solemnly returned to their seats, just as confused as Jack was.

"He was right, Jack. Spot was right," said a somber Dart. "How else could Harlem have found out?"

Jack looked at him curiously. "Right about what, Dart?"

Dart shook his head before placing it in his hands. "There _was_ a traitor! He suspected someone was workin' for Harlem all along, an' now look what happened! We nearly lost Shorty! He's lucky ta be alive! Not ta mention what they did ta Race!"

A _traitor_. _No, it couldn't be true,_ he thought. _Please, let it not be true._

A silent voice in the back of Jack's mind suddenly grew to a loud roar as he recalled several events from the past few weeks: Kate's mysterious appearance in Manhattan; her reluctance to go to Brooklyn; Spot's recognition of her face; her presence nearly every time they discussed the meeting; the notion of Spot's that she was a spy; her affiliation with Harlem's Spades Kearney; the fact that she had to leave Jack early at twelve o'clock that day, even though her call wasn't until one o'clock; her ability to remember exact details…everything suddenly kicked into place. _She was the traitor_.

Feelings of dread, disgust, and betrayal swiftly swept through the pits of Jack's stomach as a look of pure hatred crossed his face. He began to furiously pace back and forth, which caught the attention of Blink and Mush.

"Jack, what's up? What's wrong?" asked Mush.

"He was right. He was _right_," replied Jack.

"What are you talkin' about, Jack?" inquired Blink, who was just as confused as Mush. Spot's voice rapidly ran through Jack's mind, cementing his accusation that Jack was so quick to doubt.

_ "…I'll tell ya, Jack, ever since da moment I met 'er, I've had dis feeling dat somethin's not completely right wit' 'er situation…" _

_Everythin__' she's ever told me has been a lie_, thought Jack, as he glanced sharply toward the bar, where Kate was seated with two other newsies from the Bronx. _She's at it again_, he thought. _Tryin__' ta get more information from the other side_. His heart began to race feverishly as the feelings that Kate had stirred within him in the past few months harshly disappeared as new feelings of abhorrence took their place. She had _used_ him, for only the result of a few bruised newsies and an oncoming burrough war.

"I'm really enjoying living here in Manhattan, actually. It's a lot nicer from where I used to live."

Kate's voice stung Jack's ear as her conversation reached him from the bar. One hour ago, the sweet melody of her song had sent his heart soaring, but now, her voice was a deafening siren, one that had to be blocked out once and for all. He advanced towards the bar, not a fragment of kindness left in his eyes.

"Well, I truly love it here. I've never been to the Bronx before, though. I would love to see it some-Jack? What's wrong?" Kate abruptly interrupted her conversation with the newsie sitting to the left of her and turned her attention towards Jack. "Why do you look so upset?"

"Drop the act, Kate," spat out Jack, his words full of venom. The tone in his voice instantly made Kate's heart skip a beat, as she had never heard him speak to her in such a tone. Even when they hadn't been exactly the best of friends, he was never downright malicious.

"Jack…what is it? What's going on?" she asked, pleading for an explanation.

"Always da little actress, aren't you? Always acting like you don't know what's goin' on, while all along you've been some conniving little—

"Jack! Please! Why are you talking like this?" she begged, attempting to search his eyes for some justification. His eyes, however, offered no sympathy or tenderness. She stood up from her seat, her hands nervously shaking.

"Ya know, it all makes so much sense now," Jack continued, as a new crowd began to envelop the scene which was unfolding in front of them. "Why you were so secretive from everyone…why ya knew Spades…why you seemed ta be _so_ interested with the details of da meetin'. An' why ya had ta leave this mornin' an hour before ya had to be at the theatre."

Kate desperately tried to discern what exactly was happening to her, but the faces gathering around her offered no clues. "Jack…please, I don't understand! What's going—

"YOU KNOW PERFECTLY WELL WHAT'S GOING ON, YOU TRAITOR!" Jack yelled, as the entire restaurant came to a sudden halt, leaving a deafening silence. "YOU'RE the one who's been tellin' Harlem every single detail about our meetings…YOU'RE the one who they sent ta spy on us…an' YOU'RE the one who almost got Race and Shorty killed!"

A quiet murmur echoed through Tibby's, as the truth of Kate's betrayal swept through the restaurant. Kate stood staring at Jack, too petrified to move or say anything. She frantically looked from person to person, wishing that someone would provide a justification for this charge against her.

"What are you talking about, Jack?" she demanded, her voice wavering as she furiously attempted to remain calm. Jack began to circle around her, like a lion stalking its prey.

"Even til da very end, you're still actin' your heart out," Jack responded, his tone full of bitterness. "Why don't ya run back ta Harlem an' tell all your friends how well you performed?" Jack paused. "Or better yet, why don't ya return to dat theatre of yours back in Brooklyn, _if _it exists. I'm sure they're dyin' ta get their most popular attraction back."

As she glanced over everyone surrounding her, each head bowed, avoiding all eye contact. When Kate gazed towards Blink, hoping to receive some support, all he could do was just shake his head in suspicion. She gingerly approached Jack, attempting to take his hand in hers. Hot, stinging tears that had been welling up in her eyes began to fall slowly down her cheeks.

"Please, Jack! I didn't do anything! I didn't say a word to anyone about the meetings, I swear!" She choked back a sob, as Jack purposely turned his face away from her. She reached for his hand, but he shoved her advance away. The frustration growing inside of him was becoming too much for him to bear. As he tried to push her away from him, she persisted even harder.

"Look at me, Jack! PLEASE!" she begged, guiding Jack's face to look into her eyes. "Please listen to me! I didn't do anything! I didn't do—

As quick as a bullet, Jack harshly shoved Kate backwards, sending her reeling over a chair, her head hitting the floor with a sickening thud. She coughed violently, attempting to gather the breath that had just been knocked out of her.

"No," she cried, her voice still weak from the fall. "Please, anyone…I didn't do it! Will no one believe me?"

Slowly standing, Kate heard nothing but silence respond to her. Another sob escaped her mouth as she felt her life being pulled away from her. "God, Jack! What about these past few weeks, Jack? What have they meant to you? What have _I_ meant to you?"

Jack abruptly turned away from her, struggling to respond. "Nothing."

Left speechless by his words, Kate's breath caught in her chest, her heart slowly shattering into a thousand pieces.

"Just get out of here…don't _ever_ come back."

As his final response lingered throughout Tibby's, the crowd slightly parted, making a direct path to the door. It was severely clear to Kate: _no one_ wanted her here anymore. She looked helplessly in Blink's direction, and for a moment, she caught a glint of sympathy in his eyes. Silently gathering her shawl from the bar, she glanced one more time in Jack's direction before running out the front door. As the door slammed, all of the newsies jumped uncomfortably in their seats.

"What's everybody starin' at?" demanded Jack, as he walked over to retrieve his glass.

"Jack, maybe it's best we call it a night, eh?" timidly suggested Blink, but it fell to deaf ears, as Jack paced to the very back of Tibby's, seating himself alone at a vacant booth with his back to Blink and the others.

Blink felt someone's hand on his shoulder, gently turning him around. "Leave 'em be," cautioned Crutchy, shaking his head. "He just lost somethin' none of us can relate to." Smiling sadly, Crutchy returned to his table near the front window of the restaurant. Blink, making one last glance in Jack's direction, his shoulders slumped despondently towards the table, slowly began to follow Crutchy's lead.

The brutal truth of the situation dampened the entire atmosphere of the restaurant. Several newsies from the outlying burroughs began to depart back to their respective areas, as the actuality of a war comprising four of New York's most powerful newsie territories began to sink in. As the restaurant began to empty, Jack remained motionless in his booth, no one daring to utter a sound. Even the last waiter on call at Tibby's didn't have the courage to ask the few remaining newsies to leave. An eerie silence dominated the small restaurant, every occupant too hesitant to leave and too shocked to speak.


	21. Fights and Flights

**Chapter 21: Fights and Flight**

Jack stared desolately at the glass of water sitting before him. The internal struggle plaguing him inside of his heart was nearly too much for him to bear. He had just asked the best thing in his life to walk out the door and never return. His eyes remained locked on the glass he held in his worn, rough hands, attempting to focus on anything but the long night that was to follow. A slow glance to the clock on the wall revealed to Jack that is was now 12:15 AM; nearly three hours since his life was abruptly changed.

_They'll pay_, thought Jack, as his thoughts drifted to the newly indicted borough of Harlem. He drew the nearly drained glass of water to his lips, finishing off the beverage, and gently placed it back onto the table top. Just as the cup sitting before him was empty, so was his entire spirit, completely drained of any hope. Subconsciously, he rose from his seat, his legs begging him to leave and return home for the night, when suddenly the familiar ringing of the bell above the front door at Tibby's brought him out of his trance. He turned to find the last person he wished to see at that moment: Spot. He lethargically began to approach him, struggling to find words to admit that his intuitions had been wrong.

"Hey, Spot," solemnly called Blink. "I take it ya already been back ta Brooklyn an' heard about da fight?"

Spot nodded gravely, avoiding Blink's gaze.

"Spot," Jack began, the other newsies in the restaurant instantaneously fixing their eyes on the new confrontation. "Spot, you were right. There was a traitor," Jack spat out vehemently. "It was right in front of my eyes the entire time, an' I never wanted to admit it."

Spot merely nodded his head, his eyes sinking to the level of the floor.

"It was her all along, an' I just didn't wanna admit to it, Spot. You were right all along."

At this belabored confession, Spot jerked his head up to meet Jack's cheerless gaze. "Whattya talkin' about Jack?" demanded Spot, his voice oddly flecked with a subtle indecisiveness.

Jack determinedly walked past Spot to the front window, his eyes searching for a response. "Dat day outside when ya told me about da traitor." Jack turned around to face Spot. "When ya told me about Kate an' how ya didn't trust her. You were right all along, Spot, an' I just didn't wanna believe I was wrong."

Spot's mouth slightly opened, to reveal the fact that he was also searching for things to say. Brooklyn's leader was _never_ caught speechless, and Jack noticed this apparent detail.

"What, Spot…?" Jack asked, bewildered by the notion that Spot had no witty comeback or comment. "What is it?"

Sticking his hands into his pockets and deeply bowing his head, Spot once again looked to the floor for words. "Jack…I—I don't know how ta tell you this." Spot took a deep breath, preparing to deliver his next sentence. "It…wasn't Kate."

_Run, just run_, she told herself. _Don't stop_.

The cold, wet air stung her skin, but Kate didn't notice. There was only one thing on her mind and that was to run like hell out of Manhattan.

She ran through a huge puddle, kicking up water all over her skirt and blouse, but it didn't faze her. The breath coming from her mouth evaporated into thin air before she even realized how cold it was outside.

_I didn't do anything...did he even truly love me?_

Her heart ached like it had been split into a thousand crumbling pieces. Hot and angry tears flooded to her eyes as she desperately wiped them away with her bare hand. Why had he done this to her? Why?

The rain poured down harder than ever, its icy cold drops shooting like bullets out of the sky. And still Kate ran on, bolting through the various alleyways and streets. Her clothing was nearly drenched, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. Kate had no idea where she would go, but she knew that she couldn't stay another minute at the Manhattan Lodging House.

_Why did I fall in love?_

She internally cursed herself for ever letting anyone near her. Here she was, soaking in the rain, with her reason for living back home shunning her away from everything...her home, her new job, and her love. What had she done? How was this all happening? Everything seemed like it was moving in slow motion. She quickly turned another corner into an alleyway, and found temporary respite from the bitter rain underneath an awning. She leaned against the frosty brick wall for support, finally realizing how much it hurt to breathe.

_"Just get out of here. Don't __**ever**__ come back."_

The painful image of Jack shoving away Kate's hands flashed into her mind. She didn't want to believe it; she wanted nothing more than to suddenly wake up back in her bunk underneath Jack's at the lodging house. She shut her eyes, blocking out everything she had just seen, and realized how cold she really was. Her fingers were beginning to cramp up from the rain and she could barely feel them. Short gasps of steam rose from her mouth as her breathing became very shallow. She tried to inhale a full breath of air, but it hurt her chest to breathe in the frigid December air. As she watched her steam rise into the sky, the first snowflakes of the winter finally appeared and landed gently onto her head.

"Damn it!" she cried, banging her fists against the wall. Her legs felt extremely weak, as she let herself slide down against the wall into a sitting position. Her confusion over the events of the evening made her temporarily forget about hitting her head on the floor at Tibby's…and, unbeknownst to her, a fall that would result in a small concussion. She pulled her feet in towards her chest and hugged herself, trying to steal any warmth whatsoever from the pouring rain and light snow.

_Why Jack? Why?..._

A sob erupted from her lips as she let her thoughts wander to him. How could he have done this to her? Did the last several weeks mean absolutely nothing to him? Was she just an object, put on display, then tossed aside when he was done with her? Her chest began to heave in and out as the tears continued. She cried for the bitterness of life, the heartache that lovers feel, and the unbearable emptiness that swallowed her heart. But most of all, she cried for letting herself believe all the lies Jack had told her.

_Where do I go from here?_

Painfully, she rose from her sitting position and leaned her weight back against the wall. The cold had taken its effect on her, as her joints began to stiffen up and her head began to ache. Kate had given up trying to warm her hands. Her entire body was numb to everything.

_Blink..._

She could go to Blink. Would he still treat her as a friend? After what Jack had accused her of? No, she couldn't go to him. To anyone, for that matter. She had to get out of Manhattan, but how?

She could leave in the morning...where would she go then? Her mind ached at every possibility. Nothing made sense to her. She just wanted Jack to come and get her...to hear him say that she was only having another nightmare and that everything was all right.

His _eyes_. That's the image that haunted her the most. Jack's eyes had become so cold to her. They were colder than the crisp winter air that surged through the town square. No hint of warmth, affection...just, _nothing_. As she trudged back into the street, she made her way to a nearby bench and sat down. The chill in the air finally began to bite at her skin and even her own tears hurt her cheeks. She began to shiver uncontrollably and attempted to wrap her water-soaked garments tightly around herself. Her heart was fluttering at an abnormal pace, and her breathing started to become more and more shallow. There was no use. Everything she did made her even colder. She had to get out of the rain before she did anything else.

Slowly, Kate stood up and began walking towards the deli. She whimpered slightly as she walked. Her head ached more and more from with every step she took. Every move she made only made her realize how extremely tired she was getting.

_Why did I deserve this?_

She looked across the street in front of her. A blurred image suddenly appeared, slowly walking towards her. Her eyelids burned as she desperately tried to keep them open. Kate grabbed a nearby street lamp for support, feeling all of the energy drain from her body.

_Is it..._

Desperately trying to discern the figure advancing across the street, Kate slumped against the pole, giving in to the bitter fatigue and exhaustion. Her vision began to grow more blurred and dim as the greyish figure steadily decreased the distance between them. It began to run towards her as her hands fell to her sides.

_...Jack?..._

Finally, she let her entire body fall to the cold pavement as she felt the figure's two strong, yet gentle hands lift her up into his arms. She absorbed a brief warmth radiating from the figure's chest before she finally succumbed to the cold and slowly closed her eyes, as the pouring rain gently stopped and the harsh, bitter snow took over.


	22. Answers and Decisions

"It wasn't her."

With a defeated sigh, Spot Conlon slowly made his way over to Jack's table, as Jack himself attempted to absorb what Brooklyn's leader had just said: _it wasn't her_.

The traitor, responsible for the ambush of several Manhattan, Brooklyn and Bronx newsies, was _not_ Kate.

"What?" spat Jack, finding it hard to speak, let alone breathe. A million thoughts began to swim around in his mind, but only two seemed to matter: who really _was_ the traitor, and _what_ had he just done?

As Spot seated himself at a vacant chair, a sick, empty feeling filled Jack, as he replayed the events of the evening in his mind. He had just single-handedly accused the person he loved the most in his life of betrayal, and apparently, his accusations were completely unfounded. He was _so_ certain, though. Everything had moved so quickly, as if his life were suddenly going twice as fast. As Manhattan's leader, he had to act quickly in order to protect his newsies, and Dart had said that there was a traitor. Coupled with Spot's earlier accusations regarding Kate's true identity, and the fact that she had been privilege to certain pieces of information about the meeting at Hailey Field, the logical conclusion was that she was the traitor, as hard as it was for Jack to confess. But now, Jack sat across from Spot Conlon, a newsie known for his reluctance to ever admit his mistakes. Hearing him ever declare he was wrong about something was an event only the lucky were able to witness. It was no surprise, then, to find the rest of the newsies occupying Tibby's crowded around Jack and Spot's table.

Struggling to find the correct words, Spot spat out "I was wrong, all right? I got so focused on placin' da blame on someone for all these attacks, and Kate seemed ta fit into it all. She shows up one day, she's got a sketchy background, and I get this creepin' suspicion dat I knew 'er. Like I had seen her before, right alongside those Harlem punks. I did know 'er, Jack…I was _always_ right about comin' into contact with 'er before…it just wasn't wit' Harlem."

Before Jack could pry into how Spot _did_ know Kate, Spot continued. "I let it cloud my judgment, an' now we've got a shit load of injured newsies and prob'ly a turf war, too. Dammit!"

Spot slammed his fist down on the table, rattling the silverware and nearly knocking Jack's glass of water to the ground. No one seemed to notice, however. In fact, no one seemed able to say anything, still too shocked to process anything that they were hearing.

"What happened then, Spot?" cautiously asked Blink. "What happened on Hailey Field?"

A disgusted look crossed Spot's face, reluctant to recall the events of the evening, but indubitably inclined to tell exactly what had happened. "Everything was goin' like clockwork," he began. "Everyone showed up…Orion's boys seemed real interested in fin'ly doin' something to get Harlem's attention…make 'em show more respect, ya know? Course, we both agree on dat point, Jack, so it was lookin' like all t'ree boroughs might finally team up against Harlem. Den, it happened."

Not a sound was heard throughout the entire restaurant, all newsies attentive to the next few words that spilled out of Spot's mouth.

"Dey was all standin' near da third base dugout when…" Spot hesitated, knowing he couldn't avoid the details any longer. "…when somethin' hit Race in da back of da head." An audible gasp escaped from Crutchy's mouth. Spot glanced at him and continued on. "Race fell, an' before my boys could get to 'im, somethin' else flew t'ru the air and destroyed the lamppost over da dugout. It was pitch black. None of da boys could see anything, 'cept a few feet in front of them. Shorty, however, was closest to Race when it happened…as 'is eyes started adjustin' to da dark, he found what hit Race: a metal chain."

No one had to explain to the Manhattan newsies who the chain belonged to. Harlem had long been synonymous with dirty tactics when it came to turf enforcement. Just as the Manhattan boys were known for their fighting skills, and the Brooklynites for their mastery of slingshots, the Harlem newsies were infamous for using deadly chain-link whips…a weapon that few dared to use because of the consequences that ensued. The unlucky recipient of a chain-link attack normally ended up in the hospital, if a hospital could be afforded. Anyone who armed themselves with such a weapon was considered to be a coward in the newsboy world: turf wars were natural, fights would obviously ensue, but it was generally agreed that the resolutions to those wars _never_ should involve brutal beatings or, on the rare occasion, death.

In recent years, the Harlem newsboys began to use these metal whips, amongst other dangerous weapons, to keep a firmer grasp on their turf…as well as to extend that grasp to areas where they weren't welcome. The borders to each individual territory were starting to serve as mere guidelines as to where newsies could and could not sell. Harlem had grown greedy, steadily advancing their hold on the Upper East and West sides and staking illegal claims on midtown Manhattan…territory belonging to Jack's boys and the prime selling location in all of New York City.

Spot continued. "Before any of da boys could get to Race, nine or ten Harlem rats just showed up, outta nowhere…fully equipped, if ya know what I mean. Our boys didn't stand a chance." Spot's hands clenched into fists as he suddenly banged them onto the table.

"Those cowards…bastards…they know they don't have ta take it this far!" shouted Spot. "Even I like to join in on a good rumble every now and then, but this…." He paused. "This.." he said, once again pounding the table with his fist. "_**This**_ goes too far."

Crutchy nervously took a breath. "So..wh-what happened, Spot? What…what happened ta Race?"

Spot refused to look Crutchy straight in the eye. Keeping his glance focused on the table, Spot said "Bolero ran ovah to Race after the light went out. He seemed okay, for da most part…his eye was pretty cut up, but he seemed okay, ya know? Bolero got 'im to his feet, yellin' to da other boys ta get the hell outta there. Dey started to run off, but Bolero couldn't find Shorty."

"What about Match? An'..an' Cirrus?" asked Mush.

Spot grimly shook his head. "Dey already were tryin' ta fend off two or t'ree of those Harlem scum. Bolero thought dey were holdin' their own well enough, so he got Race to his feet and started lookin' for Shorty." Spot paused. "An' he found 'im…he was near the dugout on da ground…and he wasn't movin'."

No one dared to breathe. No one dared to move. Even Spot struggled to come up with his next words.

"When Bolero got ovah to Shorty…he looked bad…real bad. Bolero thought he was gone. He picked 'im up and said it was like carryin' a heavy bag of bricks…just dead weight. Cirrus and Match were able to chase off the rest of the remainin' Harlem boys, but by the time they got back ta Bolero, they had their fair share of damage, too. And then…then…Race just sort of started actin' funny…somethin' wasn't right…and he collapsed."

Jack's eyes bore intensely into Spot's, willing the answer to come. "Cirrus ran over ta him and saw it…he had a huge gash on the back of his head…Bolero missed it da first time….dey said…dey said he lost a lotta blood."

Jack, in an unexpectedly calm and numb tone, asked "Where are they…where did ya take 'em, Spot?"

"Dey're all at our lodgin' house," replied Spot. He suddenly realized he had to provide a more thorough answer to Jack's question, given the looks he received from most of the Manhattan newsies. "Dey tried ta make Race and Shorty as comfortable as possible while dey were waitin' for better help. Old Red knows a nurse in da neighborhood. Said 'e was gonna call her over to see what she could do. They're…they're both in a bad way, Jack. We won't know what's gonna happen 'til tomorrow mornin'."

A million thoughts were flying through Jack's head. _There's gonna be a war. So many newsies are hurt. Do we go to da cops? I've gotta get over ta Race an' Marc-_

Suddenly, Jack stood up. "Spot…ya said how Race was…how Shorty was…what about Marcus? Da kid who's been hangin' around with Race?"

Spot didn't move. He didn't speak, flinch, or breathe. He just tightened the grip on his cane, and stood up slowly. Minutes, hours seemed to pass in the time it took him to find his voice.

"Harlem."

Several newsies exchanged confused glances. Spot gathered his breath. "He…was _**with**_ Harlem." Spot turned to face Jack, staring directly into his gaze. "_**He**_ was the traitor. _He _was da one dat ratted us out." Spot's audience gave off a reaction of disgust and shock. "It was Marcus all along."

Like a time bomb waiting to go off, Spot pushed himself away from the table and began pacing through the aisles at Tibby's. He was like a frustrated lion, angered after losing his prey…contemplating his next move. But even the toughest lion doesn't show signs of defeat. "What do we do now, Jack? I'm so angry I can't think straight. We gotta respond, we gotta show 'em that this was the dumbest mistake they—

"I threw 'er out."

Jack's lifeless voice somehow cut through Spot's incensed tirade. Even Spot himself was surprised that anyone dare interrupt him when he was _this_ angry.

"You what, Jack?" asked Spot.

Jack backed away from the table, directly catching Blink's gaze. Blink immediately looked away, embarrassed that he hadn't done anything during the previous events of the evening.

"I threw 'er out," Jack resumed. "Kate. When Dart ran in here, yellin' about da fight an' Race…an' that you were right…about there bein' a traitor…I just…I just thought it had ta be Kate."

Now it was Jack's turn to pace. "You seemed so certain, Spot," continued Jack. He paused in-between sentences to piece his thoughts together. "Da fact that you said she looked familiar…dat she knew Spades Kearney…dat she had known so much about da meetin'…how she was always leavin' an hour early ta go ta Medda's….da fact that she could remember every little detail…"

He trailed off, unable to voice what he had just done. He took a few more steps, then swiftly kicked the back of a booth. A loud thud shook the restaurant. He turned away from Spot and the other newsies, harshly rubbing away any telltale signs of tears from his eyes before he continued.

"So…I told her ta get the hell outta here…to never come back," finished Jack. _And I shoved 'er over a chair_, he thought. _I pushed 'er_.

Jack's stomach twisted into a knot. His mind fought with him over what to do next. He felt nauseous, he felt dizzy, his faced seethed with anger. Blink watched Jack as he grabbed a nearby chair and sat down, cradling his head in his hands. Blink then cautiously stood up, making his way to the middle of the room.

"Jack, listen. Spot…" Blink turned to face Brooklyn's leader. "Spot, I think we can agree dat what happened tonight on Hailey's Field is a tragedy, an' _has_ ta be dealt with as soon as possible." Spot moved to interrupt, but Blink didn't let him get a word in edgewise.

"We can't keep lettin' those Harlem boys t'row their weight around…somethin' has ta be done, an' _soon_." Several nods encouraged Blink to go on, and he cautiously approached Jack.

"Jack, I know you're thinkin' 'bout Race…'bout the other newsies who got hurt tonight," offered Blink, who somehow managed to snap Jack out of his bewilderment. "But…I _also_ know dat you're beatin' yourself up over Kate…and I know it's takin' every bit of your will ta _not_ run out of here right now and find 'er."

Jack slowly looked up at him. As soon as he made eye contact, he looked away. He slowly nodded, rubbing his face in his hands again.

Blink looked around the restaurant. Every face was focused on him. Even Spot Conlon was waiting for him to say his next words.

"Jack…sendin' everyone over ta Brooklyn tonight isn't gonna make Race or any of da boys get better faster." Blink glanced at the clock. _12:47 AM_. "It's already almost one o'clock in the morning. Goin' out at dis time of night, over the Brooklyn Bridge, aint' exactly a smart thing to do anyways."

"Especially not in dis weather," offered Mush, who was currently looking out of Tibby's front window. There were now steady sheets of snow dancing around the street, giving Tibby's the appearance of being inside a snow globe. There were at least 2 inches of snow on the ground already…an odd sight for early November.

Blink nodded, whirling around to Spot. "Spot, are you goin' back ta Brooklyn tonight?"

"Shortly," replied Spot. "I've gotta get back to assess the damage…make plans….as should you, Jack."

Upon hearing the sound of his name again, Jack could only nod. There were so many things pulling his attention hundreds of ways. Where would he start? He knew the answer, but should he be strong for his—

"Jack, find her," said Spot, softly. He walked over to Jack. "You're not takin' all of da blame on dis one, as much as it pains me to say it. If I hadn't been so insistent with my doubts about 'er, you wouldn't have questioned 'er. Dis situation…dis _entire_ situation…is just as much my fault as it is for everyone who didn't see Marcus for da traitor that he was."

"You're not gonna be any help ta me tonight, Jack. I know where your head's at, and you're not gonna make any useful decisions until you find 'er. You're of no use ta anyone until you're thinking straight. And I get it…go…find 'er."

With that, Spot signaled to a few of his remaining newsies that it was time to leave. They began to filter out of the restaurant, but not before Spot turned around, speaking directly to Blink. "Don't let 'im come to Brooklyn until he finds her. Race and the others…they're in good hands until then. If something happens, I'll send Dart running as fast as I can."

Spot extended his hand, a gesture only reserved for people he trusted, people he respected. Blink felt a momentary honor, then remembered the matter at hand.

"Will do, Spot. We'll get these bastards, _we will._"

Spot's grip tightened, and then he released. He nodded, then turned to leave. Blink shifted his focus back to Jack, who was still seated at the back of the restaurant. Blink could still see that Jack was wracking his brain of his next step. He knew Jack would feel selfish if he spent all night searching for Kate, while he could be checking on Race in Brooklyn. He also knew that he was dealing with an incredible amount of guilt. But, as Spot had said, Jack's mind wouldn't be firing at full speed unless he found her, and found her quickly. Blink made to speak to Jack directly, but another voice piped up loudly and forcefully before Blink could make it to Jack. The determined and forceful voice oddly belonged to Mush.

"Jack, ya gotta snap yourself out of this. We all know you're blaming yourself for the attack, and I know you're blaming yourself for pushing Kate away. But the Jack _I_ know wouldn't be just sittin' here starin' into his hands when he could be out there searchin' for the person he loves! Dis is _not_ the Jack Kelly I know and look up to!"

Jack finally tore his face away from his hands, and looked up at Mush. The rest of the newsies were just waiting for him to say anything at all. He shook his head, as if shaking off a trance. Suddenly, the look in his eyes had direction.

"Okay," he said. "Let's go find her."


	23. Trauma

_**Trauma**__ is a type of damage, either physical or emotional, to the body or mind that occurs as a result of a devastating event. If especially severe or profound, damage may involve physical changes inside the brain, which alters a person's response to future stress…_

The trauma plaguing Racetrack Higgins was mostly physical, but it was extensive enough to leave him unconscious for several hours. His body's response to the severe lacerations striped over his face, neck and torso was one of compliance: he needed time to heal. When he awoke in the middle of the night at the Brooklyn Lodging House, his body urged him to lie still, wracked with searing pain. His attempt to sit up only caused some of his cuts to re-open. The kind, elderly woman keeping watch over him, Shorty, and the rest of the victim's from Harlem's attack urged him to not move, unknowing who exactly she was dealing with. Race wanted answers, and he wanted answers _now_.

When Spot Conlon told him that it had been Marcus who had informed Harlem of their plans, Race's trauma intensified. How could he have not seen Marcus for the traitor that he was? How had an eleven year old boy been responsible for this mess? Race would later learn that Marcus fled the scene as soon as the fighting had commenced, at the urging of his brother: Red, the leader of the Harlem newsies. He would also be told later that night that Shorty had been taken to the nearest free clinic...his injuries had been too severe, almost life-threatening, but not fatal.

Spot's personal trauma was illustrated from the sight of his room. Bits of shattered mirror glass were strewn across the floor, products from one sharp swing of his cane. None of his roommates dared to sleep in their beds tonight. The room was empty, silent as a tomb, save for Spot, who sat solemn by the window. He was still, but his mind was active, on high alert. _How do we retaliate? Do we strike next? Who can I count on? Is this my fault?_ Even the great Spot Conlon doubted himself time and time again, and tonight was a night full of doubts.

He stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over his chair. He was itching to do something..._anything_. He knew he could go check on Race and the other injured newsies, currently occupying the main bunk room, but seeing their faces would only frustrate him further. No, he needed this time alone. He needed this time to think. He needed to reassess the situation, now that the stakes were higher.

_Harlem has crossed da line._

_Harlem injured __**my **__newsies__**.**_

Spot sat down in his chair again...silent, still, but focused. In just one night, Harlem had abruptly and harshly changed the rules of the game...and now, Spot would create new rules of his own.

* * *

A smoldering fire crackled faintly in the lobby of the Manhattan Lodging House. Several newsies surrounded the hearth, slumbering on chairs and benches with blankets wrapped tightly around their bodies. Some stirred slightly, hoping to catch at least a few more minutes of sleep before rising for the day. Crutchy, nestled into the crook of an armchair, rolled over and took stock of the time: 5:36 AM...not long before work would begin for the day.

He threw off his blanket and grabbed his crutch from beneath the chair. His legs ached from the cold, and he struggled to pull himself to an upright position. He knew he would be sore in the morning from sleeping in an armchair all night, but he knew there would be no decent sleep for anyone in the lodging house that night.

Following the events at Tibby's, the Manhattan newsies had quietly dispersed back to their quarters. Jarred by Mush's insistent urging, Jack had suddenly sprung back to life, and was doling out orders left and right. In the morning, Skittery and Boots would travel over to Brooklyn to check on Racetrack and the other injured newsies. Specs and Snitch would depart for the Bronx and take stock of the atmosphere there. Ideally, they were to return with an established alliance between the Bronx, Manhattan, and Brooklyn, but even Jack knew it may be too soon to hope for that. Still, he had to try.

Once he had dealt with the Harlem mess as best as he could, Jack allowed himself to turn his full attention to finding Kate. He, along with Blink, Mush, David, and any other newsie who was willing, decided to search for Kate throughout the lower east side. They split up, working in teams of two: Jack stayed with Blink, and Mush paired up with David. At first, Jack was confident that she couldn't have gotten very far. The weather had worsened, he had at least 12 able bodied newsies searching for her, and he knew these streets like the back of his hand. He knew she couldn't be far.

But as seconds turned into minutes, and minutes into hours, search groups kept running into each other, with no good news to report. Jack himself had run into Mush and David four times before he realized they were searching the same territory. And by then, it was 3 AM.

Crutchy had started to see the search parties trickle into the lodging house around 3:30 AM. Jack had delicately asked if he would stay behind to wait up for Kate, should she return. Crutchy had complied without so much as the blink of an eye. He knew he would be a hindrance to the search; his speed was _not_ what Jack and the others needed right now. They needed time, and too much time had already passed since Kate had fled from Tibby's. No, he would stay by the fire all night if he had to...if that's what Jack needed him to do.

And now, at 5:41 AM, Crutchy was starting to come to the horrible realization that he had, indeed, spent his entire night by the fire, waiting for someone who never returned. Or had she?

Crutchy hobbled over to the front desk, finding Kloppman pouring over some ledger books. As he heard Crutchy approach, Kloppman put down his pencil and looked up.

"Kloppman, are they back? Did they find her?"

Barely were the words out of his mouth before the front door of the lodging house swung open. In a few quick bounds, Jack had cleared the entryway and was in the middle of the lobby. In his haste, he had not noticed Crutchy nor Kloppman by the front desk. He searched around the fireplace frantically, checking to see who occupied each chair or bench.

"Jack—"

Crutchy spoke, halting Jack's silent search. Jack rushed over to Crutchy and Kloppman, now both flanked by Blink, Mush and David.

Jack looked excitedly at Crutchy. "Crutchy! Well? Is she here? Did she come back?"

Crutchy shifted slightly, glancing first at Kloppman, and then back at Jack. Jack's imploring gaze was enough to make his stomach turn. He didn't want to say the words, he couldn't tell him that—

"She's not here, son," said Kloppman. "She didn't come back."

Jack's face fell. He looked to Crutchy, as if to confirm what Kloppman had just said.

"It's true, Jack," confirmed Crutchy. "I stayed up all night. We all did," he said, gesturing to the remaining newsies by the fire. "She didn't return."

Jack looked towards the staircase. He started to walk towards it.

"Jack, where'ya goin'?" asked Mush.

Jack didn't break his stride. "Maybe you missed her, maybe she's upstairs in our room sleepin', maybe—

"Jack, she's not there," interjected Kloppman. "I waited up, too."

Defeated, Jack slumped down onto the stairs. He was _so _certain he could find her. He had promised her he would always take care of her. Now, she was out in cold, alone, and nowhere to be found. And it was all his fault.

He stood up abruptly. "Then we gotta get back out there and keep lookin'." He made for the front door. "I promised her I would protect 'er and that's—

Jack was stopped by Blink. "Woah, woah...Jack. Cool it. You're runnin' on no sleep. We all are. You gotta take a breather."

Jack struggled against Blink's hands, which were preventing him from heading out the door. "No, I gotta keep lookin'. I gotta—

"Gotta? Gotta what? Jack, listen. I wanna find her as much as you do, but you need ta rest. And, ya gotta give Kate a little bit more credit than that."

Jack shot Blink a confused look.

"She's smart, Jack. She knows how ta take care of herself. Who knows, she may have found a place to stay overnight." Jack relaxed slightly. "Maybe she's at Medda's? Maybe we shoulda just been looking in our own backyard."

Jack nodded mechanically. He _wanted_ to believe Blink was right. He wanted to believe that maybe she _was_ just a stone's throw away. But wouldn't have Medda told him? Wouldn't someone have told him?

His mind ached. Every thought formed in his head dealt with Kate. He was physically unable to think of anything else, including his own well-being. Every word, every action was centered around her. He had thought little of the Harlem incident while he had been out searching for her. The trauma of possibly losing her had taken its toll on him, and it was also becoming physically apparent.

"Get some rest Jack," urged David. "I swear, we'll keep searching for her, but ya gotta rest."

"Come on, let's go," said Mush, nudging Blink and David. The boys made for the staircase. Jack nodded, accepting defeat for one night. His legs mechanically walked upstairs and into the unhelpful solace of his empty room. He shut the door behind him, shedding his wet, frozen clothes and putting on his undergarments. He paused, fixated on Kate's empty bunk. It had been the first time in a long time since the bottom bunk was completely unoccupied.

Jack walked over to it and sat down, his mind running in a thousand different directions. Was Blink right? Was Kate okay, safe somewhere, by herself?

His head ached. He lay down on Kate's bed, noting the smell of her unmade sheets. They smelled like her, and the smell made him simultaneously comforted and unnerved. His head settled into a pillow as his mind slowly began to calm down. The thousands of thoughts he had begun the night with were slowly fading as he drifted off to an uncomforting sleep, until only one thought remained:

_Where was she?_

* * *

Someone was violently grabbing her arm.

She was falling, and she was falling fast. She reached desperately for anything, anyone to help her, but the harder she struggled, the faster she fell. She couldn't breathe, and an intense pain throbbed between her temples. She reached out one more time, and something or someone grabbed her right arm. She looked to her side, but saw no one. And yet, a phantom hold had pulled her from her fall. Something invisible was harshly pulling her upwards. She tried to brush away the ghost hand gripping her, but she only heard soft, mysterious voices:

_She's waking up._

Again, she tried to free herself from her unknown assailant. The more she writhed back and forth, the harder they held on. She needed air, she needed to breathe.

_Go get him_. _Now_.

Light. She saw light. The spectral hand pulled her closer to it, and the darkness grew lighter. She could breathe again! As she approached the light, the hand loosened its grasp, and breathing became easier. Excited, she inhaled deeply, which only led to a furious fit of coughing. The mysterious voices became louder.

_Leave, everyone. _

The light slowly became brighter. Dim, vague images started to come into focus. A bed. A worn chair. A window. A man.

She blinked her eyes slowly, struggling to rouse herself. Something seemed familiar about the hazy scene she surveyed. She shifted slightly and realized _she_ was laying in the bed, covered with a rough blanket. Her whole body ached, but she was uninjured.

Turning her head slightly, she noticed the man was standing near the window. Things were becoming clearer now. There were worn, wooden floors. A dark oak nightstand in the corner. A cracked mirror. Rough, green wallpaper on the wal—

_No_...

Her heart caught in her chest. All breathing ceased for what seemed like an eternity.

_It couldn't be...I couldn't be..._

She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She could do neither. She gripped the blanket as tightly as she could. The wooden floor creaked. The man had turned from the window, and was now facing her. He approached her slowly.

She couldn't move. She couldn't think. Only one thought traveled across her mind.

_How did he find me?_

He neared closer and closer. A hideous aroma of whisky and cigarettes wafted throughout the room. The smell made her nauseous and brought back too many wretched memories.

_If I could just run...if I could just make it out the door..._

Her thoughts were interrupted as the man sat down on the bed next to her. His hand found his way to her face, lightly stroking her cheek. His other hand harshly clamped down on her arm, making her gasp. When he spoke, his voice made her blood curdle.

"Welcome home, Kate," said Archie. "You've been gone far too long."


End file.
